Utzian Thinking

People, People Who Need People

2009-09-16T16:37:00.001-07:00

It’s been 138 days since that day I was last employed. I never really thought that I would be out of work for this long. Four months of looking for work, finding leads, hoping, hoping, hearing “no”, and starting over has worn down my psyche to a dull node.

The typical response I receive from prospective employers (if I receive any at all) goes something like this:

“Thank you for your inquiry. We have received an overwhelming number of responses for this posting, and we intend to fill the position with the person whose education and experience most closely fulfill the requirements of the job. Good luck on your search, etc...”

Since I’m only 23 years old and a music graduate, you can imagine that they’re not just handing out jobs to people like me. I don’t know if you heard, but it’s pretty rough out there.

So I’ve been doing an unpaid internship with an internet startup to try to increase the “experience” portion of my résumé. I’ve still been looking for work, but the last three weeks has offered me the added sense of purpose that an extra 30-ish hours of work per week can afford the male ego. I am working from home, i.e., my bedroom, and it is interesting enough work.

But the last two days have introduced a threat that I was not ready to tackle: I’m going insane.

As an introvert, I am not usually afraid of being alone. In fact, to a certain extent, I thrive on the little windows of time I get to process the social information of my day. When I don’t get those windows, I get cranky and emotional–it’s not pretty. I have spent the last few years, actually, learning how to regulate myself properly to avoid those situations. I’d gotten pretty good.

Working from my room, however, I have experienced a level of solitude and isolation that I didn’t know was possible. Today, I came home after grabbing breakfast at Starbucks and kind of freaked out in the house. I was drumming all over the walls in my apartment whilst jumping around and grunting at sporadic intervals. It felt really animal and really visceral and really foreign and kind of comical. This continued for about 20 minutes until I had extinguished my energy and regained some equilibrium.

I believe in people and I love people and I am terrible with crowds but I don’t mind small groups and I need one-on-one interaction. To be deprived of involvement in the lives of people has brought me to a new ledge from which to peer into the chasm of insanity to which I seem to make a regular return.

All that to say...I love all of you who might read this. I may be hard to approach and a little bit tough to figure out, but I really do like you and I really do think you’re amazing. Y’all are not just my favorite part of life; as demonstrated by the events of today, y’all are the link to my sanity, too. :)

Addressed, respectfully, to the students of Northwest University...

2009-09-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

It seems like eons ago today, but at one time I was a freshman at Northwest University. I showed up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with a glow of anticipation. The curious smell of the dorms and the homogeneous Caf food did little to abate my sense of purpose. I was in the epicenter of everything for which school and church had prepared me for all those years.

I spent three years at that place as a student, two as an employee, two summers as an SMT member, and countless hours in the nights and weekends trying to do something worth doing. In the last three months since I’d left, I have struggled with the overwhelming sense that it had all been for nothing. I have a piece of paper that says I passed my music classes and a couple of extra jewel cases with some music me and my friends put together. Trinkets, really.

The majority of my time at Northwest was spent in the chapel building. Most of my classes were there; my office was there; chapel and all of the production stuff that I worked on occurred there. I’ve eaten in that building hundreds of times–in probably every room of it. I’ve slept in the balcony after hours of exhausting post-production. I’ve departed for Europe twice after meeting people at the entry to that building. My most beloved mentors worked there, and some still work there. Two of my roommates and I left from that building to go to staff meetings every Monday for two years. Some of the greatest people and the most wonderful conversations I’ve ever had occurred in the various nooks and crannies of that place. The smell of the room was as much a part of my identity as the city in which I was born.

The smell of that room was never supposed to feel foreign.

Tonight, I attended one of the best church services in recent memory. Two of my close friends lead a packed crowd from a stage full of vibrant passion, and they used it to propel that crowd toward truth. Surrounded by the bevy of digital delay, tube overdrive, crash cymbals, and synth pad, I found myself overwhelmed by the purpose that had been absent from my recollection of my work at NU. The purpose of my work lives on in the strength of my friend Zac’s voice, in Travis’ confident motions on stage, in Brandon’s growing eagerness to challenge the status quo, and in the hearts and minds of everyone who is affected by THEIR work. Would they have reached those heights without me? Probably. They’re talented people. But, as Winston Churchill said of the Allies of their victories in World War II, “We stand on the shoulders of giants.” It is humbling to think that, at one time, those giants were standing on my shoulders.

So, to the current students of NU, I have one final lesson to pass along to you, if you would permit a young wanderer his chance to blather on… Give yourself 100% to everyone you meet at Northwest. Offer your mind to the professors and your heart to Pastor Phil. Present your precious time to the friends who are around you as a sacred offering that consummates the union between Christ-in-you and Christ-in-them. Find the people who accept you for who you are during face-to-face interaction, and then stand with them shoulder-to-shoulder in the task that stands before you. Serve wholeheartedly as though you were cleaning the toilet of Christ himself.

What you plant, you may not harvest.

You’re building a house in which you will never live.

You’re building a house for your younger neighbors.

If you build it well, it will suit them better than it would’ve ever suited you.

Evacuation to Wordpress & Other News

2009-08-01T19:24:00.000-07:00

Hello dear readers,

I just wanted to let you know that I'm moving my operations from Blogger to Wordpress. The reasons for this are many, but can be summed up with this one statement: Wordpress is far superior to Blogger. :)

Fear not, you will still be able to grab my ish at http://theutz.wordpress.com where all the latest Utzian Buzz can continue to infect your brains.

In other news, I'm writing a book right now. It's cutting down on my desire to write on the blog...so the ol' bloggie may experience a dry spell. If you want to hear more about it, e-mail me or call me or let me take you out to coffee and we'll have a good ol' time talking about it.

Peace, my peoples.

Utzy

Stop Motion

2009-07-14T01:24:00.000-07:00

I moved to Issaquah, WA at the beginning of my third grade year from Redmond, WA. I was always pudgy. In a socioeconomic environment where 1/2 the kids worked for Fortune 500 companies and lived in huge houses in one of the most expensive housing markets in the country and the other 1/2 ran the grocery stores for the other kids to shop at, I found myself somewhere in the middle. I was a natural target.

I sucked at sports and PE was the bane of my existence. My PE teacher referred to me a few times as butterball in front of all my peers, which only encouraged an already popular form of sport amongst my classmates that consisted in making my life a wretched mess. When I started in Issaquah, I just wanted to play with the other kids. By the time I was starting 5th grade, a good day meant just being left alone.

Girls didn't seem to like me, either. At church and at school, I would try to make friends with my twin sister's friends, but to no avail. I was a second-class citizen to them, for the most part. It was hard for me to get along with people since my cultural conditioning in church was making me socially incompatible with my classmates, but my inquisitive and introspective nature didn't make me many friends at church, either. I had one ally among my peers at school, and he was dealing with the same crap I was.

When fifth grade rolled around, they offered a beginning orchestra program that fed into the orchestra program at the middle school level. There were limited seats in the program, so all the students who were interested in joining would submit their names for a lottery which would determine membership in the program, and I wanted it. I didn't know why, but I wanted it bad.

The list was posted at the end of the week, and I went to check if my name was on the list. I was second place on the waiting list, while Katie had gotten into the viola section straight away. I was devastated. I immediately started crying and cried the entire bus ride home. I had no idea why.

A few days time would create a shuffle in the list which would ensure my entry into the program. My orchestra teacher, Mr. Townsend, was the only teacher I'd ever had who made a major investment of time into my life outside of what he had to do, and it remained that way until college. Since then, I have found a significant portion of my identity in music.

It turned out that music was my "in" at church, too. I started playing guitar for Kid's Church and found a niche there where people (smaller than me) respected me. I tried to get involved in youth leadership, but I had too soft a heart for the social ladder and I got beat back many times. Again, I found myself an easy target, and I decided to shift out of the limelight instead of keep taking shots.

I could continue relating this progression to you, the reader, in detail, but I am laying this foundation for you for you to see a theme in my life which I have been dwelling upon recently. I have been using music as a means to carve a place in society for myself because I have perceived that who I am without music is not generally palatable to the majority of my peers. When I speak up about an injustice I see in a youth ministry or an inequality I see in the way a person looks at the world, or when I speak about the color of my soul and ask a girl about the color of hers, I find very few people who are willing to suffer me through the process of sorting these things out...much less take my comments as what they're meant to be––a gift of feedback meant with love.

And I understand fully that this makes me an outcast statistically. I am an INTP according to Myers-Briggs, and there ain't a ton of us out there (3-5%, to be precise). I am an analyzer and an interpreter and a reviewer. It is my gift and my curse. I use my gifts of analysis and interpretation and review to make music, but music is not my passion. I don't love it for its own sake. I love it for the acceptance and approval that has been almost my only oasis in this sea of people whom I don't understand and I don't function well with, but whom I am drawn to love and receive love from.

Unemployment has given me a lot of time to think about a lot of things that I haven't thought about before. Of course, these aren't the best conditions under which to evaluate the scope of my life, I'm sure, since loss of job, having to move, a birth/death in the family, and loneliness in your early twenties are all some pretty big freaking stressors. But I have come to one firm conclusion in all this mess: God loves me.

I know this because there is no reason for me to still care for the people who have, for the most part, so utterly discarded me. But I do. I don't know why.

It would be a lot easier for me to travel the way of Nietzsche and nihilism as I teeter endlessly toward insanity and alienation, but a still small voice bids me swim upstream.

I could call myself a super-man and look down upon the people around me who make me feel so small just to feed this starving ego, but the ailing voice of a Jewish peasant dying under the heel of the people for whom he cared so deeply echoes in my brain with the words "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," and I know he was talking about them AND me.

Or I could whither under all the self-accusation and doubt that accompanies these times and sail into this open sea of human depression, but the living voice of a dead God calls to me from the shore and bids me "feed my sheep".

So this writing, dear friends, is a public confession of God's word in my life. I may not be the loudest or the coolest or the prettiest shepherd that God ever imagined, but He has called me to devote my life to the care of his sheep and I said 'yes'. It was a long time ago and I was young and I didn't know what I was doing, but I said 'yes'. And today I say 'yes' again. I don't know how or where or when or with whom, but I am publicly devoting myself to this task with the witness of all you, my readers. (Any of you who have gotten this far must truly be good friends or truly bored.)

If you get a chance over the next few days, would you pray for me? Ask God to continue to help me figure this stuff out? Pray his provision in the midst of this difficult time? And ask that he give me the strength and endurance I will need to finish this story well? I will need as much of your prayer as I can get, I'm sure.

Destination: Love

2009-06-22T02:59:00.001-07:00

I have to admit something to you, dear reader, at the outset of this essay and in the name of "full disclosure". Love is topic about which I have very little knowledge and about which I certainly have no special expertise. This essay is the third installment in a series based on the three virtues listed by the Apostle Paul in I Corinthians 13:13. These virtues, you may remember, are faith, hope, and love. On matters of faith, I have some experience–enough to write cogently on the issue, at least. And in the area of hope; I would say that I have partaken on occasion in this blessed thing (although less than anyone might like to...I usually only recognize that I'd been experiencing hope when it is disappointed).

But love is entirely a new thing.

In my last essay concerning hope, I wrote that faith guides, hope fuels, and love acts. What I withhold from the reader in that statement is Paul's commentary on these three things. I will quote the verse to you in its entirety: "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." (NIV)

This verse is on the tail end of what we have come to call the "Love Chapter" of the Bible. Of course, there are many areas in Scripture that talk about love, but this chapter stands out ahead of the rest. This chapter is Paul breaking out in poetic verse about the nature of this thing called "love"–this great mystery. Dear reader, what you may not realize from reading this verse in isolation is that it is poetry.

Don't worry if you can't see it; it wasn't written in English originally. There is no rhyme to be heard here–although both sentences do end in love...I don't think that's a real rhyme though. No, no...the device used in this particular verse is even more cunning and genius, and it is a beautiful sketch of what love really means.

Paul provides us here with a list of three virtues with which we are all now thoroughly familiar. For those of you who aren't familiar with linguistics of any kind, here is a crash course in syntax. Certain languages use different means to identify parts of speech, i.e., subjects, verbs, pronouns, adjectives, etc. In English (as well as Spanish, French, Italian, German, etc) we use the order of the words to help identify how they function in the sentence. Note how important the difference between the sentence, "Bob hit the ball," and, "The ball hit Bob," is. In Greek, however, it is the ending of the words that indicate how that word is to be interpreted (similar to the way we might say, "I hit," vs. "Bob hits.").

If this grammar lesson is boring you, be patient because it comes back around in a huge way. In the Greek language in which the book of Corinthians was written, the most important words are put at the beginning of the sentence (kind of like bold letters are to us). Now that we understand that principle, take careful notice of how Paul has assembled the list.

Faith................Hope..................Love.

Despite the fact that love is the greatest element on the list, it is in the least position. Paul put grammar to work to paint a picture of love in its natural habitat.

For many in the church, faith is seen as the leverage whereby one gains notoriety, popularity, health, or wealth. It can indeed procure these things for you if you wish, but not as a matter of God's work, mind you. Similarly, more often than not we cultivate hope in our lives for the things that will bring us success or keep us from pain, and we are just as often disappointed.

But love gives us a new target for these two great sources of human strength. If we are to be the greatest, we must become the least. These are the teachings of the Jesus whom the church claims to worship. Yet, how often do we distort faith, hope, trust, patience, or any of the other gifts that God has given us to serve our needs and feed our fragile egos? Do we even realize that the God whom we serve stands as a witness to all eternity of the ultimate need to come down from our lofty heights and be willing to suffer anything for the sake of another?

Even as I write this, I stand condemned of failing God in this way. I, just like so many of you, manipulate the Scripture or the voice of God into something more comfortable and decidedly less revolutionary. My prayer in sharing this with you is that we would all change course and run to the end of this list, seeking our greatness in our tender and passionate desire to see others succeed beyond ourselves. This is the only Kingdom that Christ is coming to serve and to reign over. When the time comes, I'd like to at least have an application worth submitting for my citizenship there.

Hope: Supreme Unleaded Virtue with Techron™

2009-06-13T03:15:00.000-07:00

The Swiss psychologist Carl Jung identified two distinct ways that people organize the information that they perceive and thus make decisions from them: thinking and feeling. He also established the fact that people tend to prefer one of these processes over the other. For the record, I am very much a thinker.

Now, this is the second in a series of articles that my friend and pastor Dan Rice asked me to write regarding what have been called the three great Christian virtues: faith, hope, and love (I Corinthians 13:13). Writing an article about faith was a simple task for a thinker, since faith is mostly a positive, lateral extension of empirical thinking and can exist entirely devoid of emotion—in fact, it often exists despite emotion. But hope exists in the nebulous ocean of human emotion.

Hope is a feeling. Since I’m a thinker, I tend to try to find words to describe the world around and inside me. Perhaps this is why I avoid emotional situations; it is so hard to find the words. Yet, where definitions fail, stories and poems and melodies prevail. Thus, out of deference for these arts, I will share here the words of a song by the band Nickel Creek that I believe speaks to the nature of hope.

"The Lighthouse's Tale"

I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.

I keep my lamp lit, to warn the sailors on their way.

I'll tell a story, paint you a picture from my past.

I was so happy, but joy in this life seldom lasts.

I had a keeper, he helped me warn the ships at sea.

We had grown closer, 'till his joy meant everything to me.

And he was to marry, a girl who shone with beauty and light.

And they loved each other, and with me watched the sunsets into night.

And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.

And the winds that blow remind me, of what has been, and what can never be.

She'd had to leave us, my keeper he prayed for a safe return.

But when the night came, the weather to a raging storm had turned.

He watched her ship fight, but in vain against the wild and terrible wave.

In me so helpless, as dashed against the rock she met her end.

And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.

And the winds that blow remind me, of what has been, and what can never be.

Then on the next day, my keeper found her washed up on the shore.

He kissed her cold face, that they'd be together soon he'd swore.

I saw him crying, watched as he buried her in the sand.

And then he climbed my tower, and off of the edge of me he ran.

And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.

And the winds that blow remind me, of what has been, and what can never be.

I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.

And though I am empty, I still warn the sailors on their way.

Faith guides. Hope fuels. Love acts. The Lighthouse’s Tale is about a man who has experienced love and tragedy. Faith guided two people to begin to build their lives together, they wholly hoped to be together forever, and they very much loved each other. Yet, the circumstances of life would not allow this condition to be expressed into longevity on this side of death.

When we find that the woman is dead, we understand the terrible pressure of lost hope that the keeper must feel. Again, words fail to do justice to the heartache. It would seem that all hope was lost.

However, faith resisted this onslaught and provided the keeper a means of reuniting the couple (although this means was doubtless a tragic distortion of good sense). The man believed that there was a morrow to this life, and that he had only to hasten that day for himself if he would be with his beloved again. With this, he clearly gained hope for his future with her as he kissed her face and swore they’d be together soon. And as a final act of consummation of his faith, his hope, and his love for her, he joined her in perishing.

This is an illustration of the extremes to which hope can fuel us beyond what we might otherwise be capable of performing. Provide a loving mother with the hope that she might see her estranged daughter again and you can persuade her to perform unimaginable horrors or impossible feats of bravery. Hope, in and of itself is like rocket fuel exploding—it is useless and potentially destructive without the guidance of a jet. With the appropriate directionality, hope (like rocket fuel) can take us to the moon and beyond.

And so, I leave you, dear reader, with one final thought. If Jung is right and we all have a preference toward a particular means of judging the world around us—whether thinking (faith) or feeling (hope)—let us not ever discount the perspectives of the people who prefer our opposite. In letting thought and faith guide the fuel of hope, we become one in the kind of love that can make a real, lasting difference in the world.

The Reason for Faith

2009-06-12T14:39:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I liked to ride my bike a lot. In fact, I still like to ride my bike, but back then it was different. My bike represented something to me that was unfathomable and beautiful: freedom. I would ride down the massive hill upon which my neighborhood was built—reflecting only briefly on the fact that I would have to scale that hill to return—and I would make my escape from the tyranny of domesticated life. I was free.

My favorite thing to do on my bike, by far, was to use the little ramps that driveways create in a sidewalk as a chance to get a little air. Now, I’ve never been a small fella, but when you get enough speed and the right angle, you can feel light. And that is exactly how I felt as I would surge toward my miniature stunt ramps, jacking my handlebars upwards toward the sky. I was light; I was free.

As I got older, I forsook my bike for a sturdier form of transport, as most adults do. The internal combustion engine on my bright red Plymouth Voyager was far superior to the 18-speed, 2-pedal propulsion on my Costco special. These were happy times because my freedom was now nearly limitless. And yet, I can’t help but feel as though I lost something when I exchanged the lightness of my earlier freedom for the heaviness of the Detroit method of transportation. What I made up for in comfort and capacity, I lost in the thrill of hang time.

Something else that I liked about my childhood was that it was so easy to believe in God. Secondary and higher education hadn’t yet activated my left-brain to the point where reason was my dominant facility. I had no reason to be discontented with the bits that I had been taught about the way the universe worked when I was younger. Then, I met René Descartes.

Without boring you with philosophical pedantry, I will express to you that my meeting with this man was quite bittersweet. Perhaps his most famous contribution to philosophy is his Method of Doubt. I was ready to tackle it head on. Doubt was no match for me. I was an Evangelical deacon’s kid who did Bible Quiz in elementary school; bring it on, Frenchie!

Well, he brought it, and it turned out I had underestimated the Frenchman’s talents. His logic was indefatigable and his reasoning as sound as any could be. His famous statement, “Cogito ergo sum,” (“I think, therefore, I am”) had been tossed around by my teachers for decades. But, I didn’t know what it meant, so I didn’t think much of it.

To sum it up, Descartes proved through the use of logic that the only thing that can be proved is your existence. If you’re thinking, then you exist. Everything else is inaccessible to pure logical reasoning. Everything else is assumption.

What I didn’t correlate at the time was the relationship between assumption and faith. In a logical brain, assumptions are detestable when they’re spotted out, and they are to immediately be discounted for the pursuit of more empirical data. But as Descartes so eloquently proved to me, even empirical data could be a great

lie (reference the first few scenes of The Matrix for details). What was a poor little evangelical boy to do in light of this information?

This lead to a solid year-and-a-half of soul-scathing, mind-bending, and psychologically depressing labor. I scoured over books by Tim LaHaye and the good C.S. Lewis, but none addressed this void. I talked to pastors, but none had any answers except, of course, to scold me for my lack of faith. And I dove into the deepest wells of my soul to see if the experiences of my childhood spirituality were nothing but bunk, to be discarded with the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.

One day while I was studying for my undergraduate degree, I got a call from my sister who was taking a course at the same college where I studied philosophy for the first time. She told me that the instructor who had introduced me to Descartes and Nietzsche had lapsed into a manic episode in front of the class, cussing everyone out and getting physical with a student. He was forcibly removed from the classroom by security and summarily fired.

It was only then that I remembered why it was so important to believe.

Belief is food to the human soul; without it, even the brain—with all of its logical proficiency—is doomed to death and starvation. Faith is the precursor to any sturdy happiness. One cannot plan without faith; one cannot act without faith. One cannot hope without faith, and one cannot love without faith.

If the human life is to produce any enjoyment, it must be through faith. Even atheist evolutionists have faith, although their faith is in the ability of human intelligence and nature to solve all the ills of the universe given enough time. A person without faith is merely an aspiring mental patient…not a contributing member of society.

It wasn’t explained to me until years later that reason is not evil and faith is not stupid. Reason and logic are the ramp off of which one leaps into faith, and it is within the nature of every human being to make this leap. Our souls require it of us. Staying put is not an option.

It is in faith that I reclaimed the lightness which I’d left leaning against the wall in my garage as I pulled the car out for the first time by myself. In faith, my soul barrels down the sidewalk at blazing speeds, jerking the handlebars upward to experience that moment of lightness—to experience freedom.

“To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, ‘If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’"

-John 8:31-32 (TNIV)

Adulting

2009-05-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

I find it hard to think a bit, and so I think a lot.
There’s not much worse than thinking when damned thinking’s all you got.
A catalog of feelings is a list of mysteries,
and navigating through them is like drowning in high seas.

I thought I’d get to know myself by twenty-two or -three;
I’d have all my opinions formed and have a girl to see.
Instead, I’m jailed inside my mind and struggling to breathe;
I’m wrestling with the prospect that I’ll never really sleep.

I’m feeling like I’m thinking more than feelings can support,
But feelings leave me empty, poor, and rather out-of-sorts.
I need a Will to rescue me from this, my soul’s impasse,
And take me to a brighter place where I can rest at last.

Fumbledom Donkeystrate's Adventures in Disaster

2009-05-04T16:40:00.002-07:00

Now weepest I at my table of mourning,
        my scepter of grief at my hand,
And I scrawl all my tears on my plain-white companion
        to archive the fears I withstand.

For living is risky when nothing is risked,
        since this life, at its shell, is a game,
And to play is the same as to win on most days,
        but to fold is profoundly profane.

Yet for most of the game I thought I was the clever one–
        calmly amused by the folly of life.
Consuming the Koolaid, I retire at the sidelines
        to mock all the plays and their players alike.

“Pish, posh!” I contend as I witness a friend
        who is shooting the dice of romance,
And I scoff all the more as he walks through the door
        with his ring and his smile and his wife
                (and his chance at a meaningful life).

And I’ve little to lose, though there’s much to be gained
        by attempting to roll my own dice,
But Alaska is plain and Miami insane in my mind
        ‘cause my heart’s made of ice.

Now, no man’s an island without the consent
        of himself and his family and friends.
Yet, if one is an isthmus then doubtless he’ll miss this,
        and think he’s an island instead.

And I was that quitter, alive but alone,
        and awash with more water than friends,
I was sleeping alone in an ocean of moans,
        but now I am rolling the dice,
                might be nice to melt the ice.

I know what I want to be when I grow up...

2009-04-26T00:40:00.000-07:00

Johnny Cash.

It Is Sad

2009-04-07T20:55:00.000-07:00

It is sad when one looks to the individual for that which is only capable of being fulfilled by the church;
It is sad when one looks to the church for that which is only possible because of the state,
     and it is sad when one requires of the state that which can only be provided by the people.

It is sad when people look to alcohol for that which only can be found in success;
It is sad when people look to success for that which can only be found in contentment,
     and it is sad when people look to contentment for that which can only be found in relationship.

It is sad when one looks to mere things for that which only can be found in people;
It is sad when one looks to mere people for that which only can be found in God,
     and it is sad when one looks to God as a way of hiding what only can be found in themselves.

I am it,
     and it is I.
I've wrote these words,
     and now I cry.

Exposure: Noah's Sin, Ham's Sinful Response

2009-03-04T10:13:00.000-08:00

I'm alone;
   everyone I know is gone.
Even the people who used to ridicule me for building this ship;
   all have been translated to the deep.
Curse this wretched life!
   the terrors of the wind and waves were comfort to this despair!
My comfort lies alone in this mournful drink,
   my salvation is in the cup.

Laying down in the tent, I'm overcome by it.
   Drunkenness passes through my consciousness like a fumbling raider.

Naked I lay;
   Naked and alone.

Coming back to consciousness, I feel a blanket
   the warmth of a blanket that I did not place upon myself.
I'm not alone;
   surely my sons cared for me enough to shield me from my sin
      and despair, and to shield the world from the same.
Stepping outside the tent I find Shem & Japheth;
   they come to my arm to steady me, whispering blessings on their father.

Ham sits, looking away into the darkness.
   Ham sits, looking away from his father.

Shem tells me of the disgrace that has been brought upon me;
   disgrace at the hand of my own sin,
      disgrace at the tongue of my own son.
I'm alone again.
   The love and confidence of two was not enough;
       not enough to cover the boarish prattle of one other.

Naked I stand;
   Naked and alone.

Soul Melanoma

2009-03-03T07:35:00.000-08:00

I wake up one day to a bump on my arm.
No big deal.

I wake up weeks later and go to the beach.
My friends see the bump. They're concerned.
No big deal, I say to them.
Life goes on.

Weeks later, I wake up and go to the doctor.
I have a cold. And a bump.
No big deal, I figure.
Life goes on.

The doctor is concerned, but not very.
He indicates that a biopsy might be the prudent course.
I consent, rolling my eyes a little.

Waking up for my biopsy, I nearly cancel.
I don't have time for this.
But, better safe than sorry?

The results come in: malignant melanoma.
Cancer growing on my outside for all to see.
And I didn't know. It was no big deal.
Life went on.

But it wouldn't if I didn't do something now.
Without drastic intervention, my life would be lost.
Now I subject myself to even the silliest whim of the physicians.
It's a matter of life and death.
This thing--this alien to my system--it had to go at any cost.
Everything I had wanted in life--everything I had ever loved--
would all be lost if I didn't take care of this tumor.
This tumor of deceit.

I have not always been an honest person.
I have always had a hunch, and I think others have, too.
Upon realizing what that means to a soul brought to life by God,
I have consented to whatever forms of surgery He might afford.
It is my only chance of survival. It is my salvation.
He is my salvation.

Martyrial Gain

2009-01-19T14:52:00.000-08:00

Who knows that I'm a mess?
Who knows that every confident statement I make
is underwritten by about 100 desperate doubts?
Who knows about that dark place?
Who can safely empathize with my sin without it costing
them their façade of confident holiness?

Who shall speak with authority?
Who shall we look to for answers to the questions
that churn about like ulcerous puss in our bellies?
Who is that sage for our day with all the right words?
Who among us humans wouldn't abandon everything they
owned for a peace of a piece of mind?

For, no superhero is necessary without the existence of a villain;
else the superhero is cast aside as an obnoxious overachiever.
So, create a villain you can conquer, and now you're superman.

And, make me your villain, oh cruel Fates!

I will stand against you, wearing my error like a cape
and my inadequacies like an emblem on my wiry chest.
I will turn my clenched jaw and furrowed brow to your fury,
and I'll smile as you crush my weakened form.
For I am that villain—worthy of a villain's death.
But my smile on that fateful day comes not from confidence
in myself; it is the smile of reminiscence.

It's a smile which remembers that, in the days of old,
an anomaly lived and empathized with the dark, doubtful messes,
    costing him his façde of confident holiness.
It's a smile that gazes into the eyes of a Sage,
a sage who spoke with authority and had the right words
    to question our questions and put our stomachs to rest.
It's a smile that remembers a hero who was made a villain by all—
all the villains who'd made themselves into heroes by finding
    weaker, dumber villains to punish for their crimes.
It's a smile that sees the Real Hero crushed and bruised,
wearing my errors like a cape and my inadequacies like an emblem
    on his bleeding, motionless chest.

Sabbath

2008-12-24T00:50:00.000-08:00

Pallid skin,
Weak at the knees,
Someone's got the water,
Someone's gonna bring home the bacon,
All I gotta do is put my hand to the plow a little longer,
Then, when I finally have all I can enjoy, I'll take an early retirement.

Long days,
Twelve hours sometimes,
Carrying on and on about needing to advance,
Never worrying about how much we're worrying about things,
Always trying harder and harder to do the things that need to be done,
Before it's too late and our home is repossessed and our kids hate us and life sucks.

Six days, rest; six harvests, rest; 49 years, jubilee.

Intelligent design, isn't it?

Faith, Unbelief, and Lesser Ideals

2008-11-24T03:01:00.000-08:00

Well, friends, I again disappoint those of you who may enjoy the reading of my blog for its poetry. There is a time for verse and a time for prose, I suppose. (I rhymed prose and suppose; does that count as poetry? Just trying to work with you guys.) Sadly, today's writing bears the distinctive marks of sterile, a posteriori thought. My current struggles compel me to use the less impactful and artistic forms of speech for the sake of their precision. I hope you can bear with me because the following ideas are worthy of much revision to be sure, and I'd cherish all the feedback I can get. [As an important note, for the sake of expediency, I will use very narrowly descriptive language throughout the course of this essay as a matter of expediency of speech, and not as indication of my confidence on these matters. Everything from this paragraph on is easily open for discussion in my opinion.] With all of that out of the way, on to the thinking, then...
So, I've been formulating a diagram in my mind in the last few weeks to demonstrate graphically something that should probably never be demonstrated graphically...but which I produced nonetheless. I was reading from Jesus' sermon on the mount in Matthew 5-7, and I had an interesting thought about the placement within his sermon of the section regularly referred to as "The Narrow and Wide Gates." Here is the entire chapter for you to read, in case you'd like to peruse your way through it:

Matthew 7
Judging Others
   "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.    "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.
"Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.
Ask, Seek, Knock
   "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. "Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.
The Narrow and Wide Gates
"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.
A Tree and Its Fruit
"Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them. "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'
The Wise and Foolish Builders
"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash." When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching,   because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law.

The diagram that follows this paragraph is by no means representative of any total picture of the criterion involved in crafting a life of spiritual richness or maturity. I have neither the wisdom nor the experience to be able to create such a thing, and surely if it were simple enough to render into two-dimensional imagery, the Bible would've been a collection of drawings instead of an overarching narrative written over 1,600 years by over 40 authors in multiple languages. However, this does distill in some meaningful way, one idea I've been processing about what that Narrow Gate might look like.

The Vertical Axis: Faith vs. Belief
     Firstly, the vertical axis of the graph represents what we often think of when we recall much of modern evangelicalism's approach to salvation: the binary decision to "accept Christ as your Lord and Savior" or to face the penalty of not doing so. People who do not believe in Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior find themselves on the lower half of this axis, and the simple decision to believe in him as such is the only criterion for passing above that midpoint, if one desires. This is nothing new to anyone who has been made aware of even the most caricatured versions of evangelism. This represents, in many ways, the Sinner's Prayer, or something of the sort. The overall aim of this diagram, however, seeks to incorporate other aspects of Christ's teaching into the determination of one's faith position, which may more fully explain what it means to become a follower of Christ.
     In keeping with the nomenclature of the Revelation 3:14-22 concerning commitment to Christ, the extremes of passive belief are colored blue to indicate people who are "cold" in their faith, and the extremes of active faith are are colored red to indicate people who are "hot" in their faith. The darker middle section indicates people who might be considered "lukewarm" in their faith. I would also like to note that the proportions of this diagram make no estimation of a proportionate estimate concerning how many people are in any of these given groups, just to be clear.
     The specific criterion of what the most colorful sections of the diagram represent will be more clearly defined in the forthcoming sections. However, it seems useful to define broadly what we might expect at either extreme of the vertical axis.

Cold Christians
     On the lower half, we would expect to find the majority of people who do not affirm the basic tenets of Christianity, i.e., muslims, non-messianic jews, bhuddists, hindi, agnostics, athiests, secular humanists, etc. Perhaps more surprisingly, I would also percieve that the New Testament teaches that there are people who may call themselves Christians who actually live on the lower half of this diagram.
     These people may include those who are "lukewarm" in their faith, as previously mentioned. Although the initial venture from the lower half to the upper half of the diagram is usually a dramatic or singular event, oftentimes the decline back to the lower half occurs in a more gradual fashion as the cares of life or the hardships of singular devotion slowly tug one's passion away from the focus of active faith in Jesus. Conversely, however, people may gradually cross above that line as earnest exploration for truth slowly draws them to Jesus. There are examples of both in the New Testament, and indeed, I've seen examples of both in my own life and interaction with people. Therefore, the bottom of the diagram could be just as easily described as worldliness as it could be defined satanism. Both are expressions of being on the lower half of the diagram.
     Similarly, so-called "Christians" who are living on the bottom half may have an even higher profile than just the "lukewarm" Christians. These are whom Jesus refers to as false prophets. Now, it may not necessarily be our role to make a blanket statement about which leaders in the church today are false prophets, or which movements are following false prophets, because we don't really know what is at work in most situations, do we? Suffice it to say, these people DO exist, and they may even have the power to work miracles or drive out demons, which means that we cannot rely on displays of power to determine the legitimacy of a prophets teaching. What we can observe is the fruit of their lives, but the methods of doing so are beyond the purview of this paper. Sorry. :)

Hot Christians
   Those who live above the line live their lives not based on a mere intellectual assent to the idea of God. Instead, these are individuals who allow Jesus Christ to mold and bend the very shape of their lives. Of course, this can and should be demonstrated in many various and diverse ways, as the Spirit leads each towards their calling. However, the most striking and unifying characteristic of this group is their willingness to submit both to the authority of Christ as they make their decisions, and often, to the authority of the healthy community that might surround them, even if it means major life adjustments. For a more extensive listing of examples, reference Hebrews 11 which is regularly referred to as the "Hall of Faith"--in other words, a passage which celebrates the great faith of many of the people who lived for God prior to the writing of the Book of Hebrews.

The Horizontal Axis: Polarizing Fundamentalism
   This particular element of the diagram, perhaps more than any other, I'm sure will garner the most controversy. I hope, however, in a limited fashion, to enunciate my thoughts clearly enough that I will not be misunderstood, even if I am disagreed with.
   Of course, the American culture and politics--and the English language--have offered us a number of different ideas that we could use to fill in the definitions of the words liberal or conservative. For instance, a candidate running for political office in America who opposes legalized abortion might be called conservative, even if they run with the Democrats. Alternatively, a father who does not allow his 16 year old daughter to wear lipstick may be labeled (most likely by the aforementioned daughter and her peers) as being overly conservative. On the other hand, suppose you run into a homosexual male on the street and strike up a conversation. It might be easy to assume, based on the single issue of gay rights, that your new acquaintance is liberal in their political views. However, you might be surprised to find out that they are "fiscally conservative", and because of that, they vote Republican in many state and local elections. Similarly, you might come across a parent who never disciplines their child in any way, but instead gives them everything they want liberally as they demand it. As you can see, there could be much room for confusion.
     Make no mistake, however, that the function of this axis on my diagram is bi-partisan. As I eluded to above, the horizontal axis represents any sort of fundamentalist mindset that would draw us away from the teachings of Christ based upon our own senisibilites or discomforts. In this way, I welcome nearly all forms of equivocation that may occur with the words conservative or liberal as it relates to this discussion, for almost any form of these mindsets can be utilized to create distance between oneself and the Gospel.
     It seems only right that I base this assertion upon rational evidences, so as not to become dogmatic in my own moderate assertions. For the sake of space and time, I will only discuss my thoughts concerning the left and right sides of the upper portion of the diagram, insasmuch as we are ultimately focused on trying to align our lives through The Narrow Gate (which, if you haven't concluded by now, is represented by proximity to the vertical axis as it continues into perpetuity).

Conservative Fundamentalism
     Conservative ideology has become the prevailing view of most evangelical Chrstians today, and I myself grew up in an evangelical family at an evangelical church. I find great value in my heritage as a human being and as a Christian being raised in a conservative environment, for conservativism generaly propogates a number of biblically rooted principles that are most often learned best as a child. For instance, conservatives believe in the strength of the individual to earn their own way through the world. This is often referred to as the Protestant work ethic, and has much of its roots in the concept originally recorded by the Apostle Paul: "He who does not work, does not eat." This effects almost every area of the conservative ideology--from supply-side economics, to the prohibition of abortion, to welfare reform.
     An extension of this ideology also very often makes conservatives more prone to war or violence for the sake of protection of property, family, or their way of life. The concept of earning that which they own often creates a smokescreen of attachment to their way of life which the teachings of Jesus absolutely mutilate. While Paul and Jesus would not seem to assert that "communism" in its institutionalized and governmentally enforced forms would be the righteous path, they do both teach a wholesale detachment from that which we should expect from the world around us as we walk through it. In fact, Jesus and Paul both mention suffering on the part of the Gospel for the sake of helping the weak, the poor, the prisoner, and the lonely even to the extent that it would significantly alter the affluent lifestyle of otherwise affluent Christ followers. This is a difficult teaching; which Christ himself acknowledged when saying that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God" (Mark 10:25).
     Another common characteristic of conservative fundamentalists is an apparent over-emphasis of morality in their regular life expressions. Whereas the liberal fundamentalist often bears a penchant for ethical living, the primary concern of the conservative is living their lives pursuant to a particular moral standard. Many overly conservative groups will follow these standards long past they days when they could still interact with their current cultures and still keep their morality in line, i.e., amish communities on the East Coast who may still not use electricity or wear bright colors. This is an extreme example, to be sure, but it is not the most extreme example. Even more extreme manifestations of conservative fundamentalism include, but are not limited to, Nazism (in certain regards, i.e., the importance of racial purity for the preservation of a Christian nation), the Salem Witch Hunts, The Crusades (in terms of the means used to motivate the people to go to war, not necessarily the cause behind those who motivated the people to those ends), and the Spanish Inquisition. As evidenced here, great evil can be perpetuated at the hands of conservatives in the name of morality.
     But there is more than a secular historical basis for my caveat against conservativism. The New Testament itself was written to a culture of 1st Century Judaism that was everything but liberal. Story after story in the Gospels finds Jesus rebuking the establishment of religion for their blind adherence to moral codes and their sense of what was right and wrong. He commonly chastises them for their moral pomposity and arrogance, denouncing them for their ignorance towards the poor and their ill treatment of the weak. In Jesus descriptions, those who were strongest among the religious conservatives of his day would have to live with the guilelessness of a child if they were to ever enter the Kingdom (a pronouncement from which we get the perhaps oveused saying "born again"). Jesus, in telling Nicodemus that he had to be born again, declared that salvation from sins was as much about destroying religious institutionalism that would oppress the weak or serve the strong as it was about making any kind of qualitative moral reforms.

Liberal Fundamentalism
   Equally dangerous throughout the history of the human race is an over-realization of the liberal ideals. Again, despite the fact that institutionalized communism is by no means a Scripturally mandated form of government, there are aspects of that ideology that can be traced directly to the good teachings of Scripture and which can be formed upon firm foundations. For instance, Jesus cared for the poor. The early church almost made it a vendetta to care for the poor. And both the Old and New Testaments have no shortage of references to helping the poor. One thing we know without certainty from the Bible--God cares for the poor.
     Socialism, in its laboratory forms, seeks to systematize that sentiment. In asking the approrpriate ethical questions necessary to discover how one might best address the government's interaction with the people, Karl Marx wrote a beautiful critique of the cruelty of the capitalist system in his Communist Manifesto. He (perhaps) over-simplifies his division of society into two distinct, meaningful classes: the proletariot (i.e., Joe the Plumber) and the Borgeoise (i.e., the Rockefeller family). His writings pit these two classes against each other in constant struggle--the proletariot constantly trying to make ends meet so as to buy the necessary materials for living, and the borgeoise constantly trying to sell their goods to society (both proletariot and borgeoise) while trying to maintain the highest profit margin for themselves, often by neglecting the proper treatment of the proletariot employees. This tumultuous system, although based on principles of social justice and equality, often lead to violent riots and revolutions against the governments of the countries who adopted communist systems. And, just like the revolutions that brought them to power, these communist governments were often ruthless in their enforcement of these "just" ideals. Evil, evil, evil.
     Jesus and Paul have an especially poignant way of addressing the evils of liberal fundamentalism. For this sort of evil, words were really not sufficient to demonstrate that you are not to murder--because we already know that. No, Jesus and Paul, and countless other Christ followers in the first 300 years of the church took their example of non-violent revolution to its extremes, even death. They constantly challenged the cruelty of the system and the (then) men who made it work, even though they knew it would eventually lead to their being crushed under its cruel hand. This was the first example of pacifism our world has ever known, and perhaps the longest-tried example of it. It was not a "passive" way of living, as conservatives often assume pacifism to be. Instead, it was a way of living that challenged people to treat others like people, even when those people will kill you for it. In this way, it is obvious to see the extreme evils that can abide in fundamentalism of ANY KIND. Whenever we divorce the teachings of Scripture from their roots in the lives of the Savior and martyrs who lived it, we have the opportunity to get comfortable with our surroundings and to want to start to defend our stay here.

The Curves: Approaching the Message

   I eluded earlier to a more nuanced exposition of the crossing above the midpoint, and here I make that plain. In my estimation, there are two ways which an individual might make the journey of intellectual assent beyond the midway point of belief to the area of faith. Before I discuss them individually however, I have a few general observations about them.
     Firstly, a direct crossing over straight along the vertical axis--although theoretically possible, I suppose--seems most realistically unlikely. The idea that someone is carrying absolutely no personal background in moral or ethical thought as they approach the question of Christ with earnestness seems to me impossible, although I am open to dispute on this point, as on most of my points. :) Therefore, neither curve approaches the origin of the graph as a representation that this middle area is actually, purely theoretical.
     Secondly, each of the four curves represents a mathematical limit. For those who are not familiar with this term, it refers to a curve which approaches infinitely closer to an axis of the graph, but never actually touches the axis. A common way to demonstrate this is by asking a person to destroy a cake by cutting it in half until no halves exist anymore. Although, in reality, it eventually becomes impractical to continue cutting any smaller, you can theoretically never fully complete the task according to the instructions, because there will always be another half. These types of mathematical phenomena are represented on cartesian graphs (like my diagram above) through limits.
      That mathematical tangent (pardon the pun) was significant for this reason--the middle area of the graph is purely theoretical, even to the furthest limits of the curves. In more plain terms, while it is possible for someone to be extremely passive in the beliefs, for a human to be completely negligent of their own well-being to the point of allowing harm to come to them would take an either emotional or chemical debilitation of the survival instincts. The only other option would be for them to believe so strongly in their indifference that they would put up with the pain or threat of death, but that would require them not being passive in their beliefs--therefore distancing them yet further from the vertical axis.

The Blue Curve: Salvation Through Self-Reliance
     It is from the point of near-perfect passive belief that we start the journey of salvation through self-reliance, which is the first of the two possible approaches to Christianity. Another way of referring to this is "works-based" salvation. In order to make sure we are tracking together, I will flesh out these impersonal curves with a story.

Conservative Self-Reliance
   Timmy grew up in a terrible home. His father left his mom when he was 2 years old, but that didn't really stop the violence that had been occuring towards him and his mother as his dad would beat them. She went out right away and found a new boyfriend who was just as violent towards mom and Timmy. As Timmy grew older, he knew his only way out of this kind of horror was through doing well in school.
     Timmy studied hard, forsaking many of the typical innocent pleasures of childhood, like girlfriends, hobbies, TV, and sports to prepare for law school. He wanted to be a lawyer so he could put guys like his dad and his mom's boyfriends behind bars when he got older. He desperately wanted justice.
     Throughout the course of his studies, Timmy met a group of Christians that met on his high school campus. They often spoke of their experiences at home with two parents who loved each other and only fought every once in awhile, and never with violence. He heard that they had a dog and a trampoline and every night, when they would go to bed, their dads would wish them good night and tell them that he loved them.   This sounded like a fairytale to Timmy, but somehow he knew, even at that age, that that was what he wanted for his kids. So he joined the youth group, prayed the prayer, and continued on in his studies.
     Timmy cleaned up wonderfully, and the whole youth group was ecstatic about his conversion. The youth pastor would often have him address the youth group and tell them about where he came from and why he was there.   Timmy didn't mind--after all, if he was going to stand up to criminals in a court of law, he should certainly be able to stand up in front of a room full of kids. He would talk about how his dad drank, and how alcohol was an absolute evil to him throughout his childhood, and how he would never drink the stuff. He would talk about how other kids in high school were doing drugs or getting girls pregnant, but he would take no part--he was on a mission of justice.
     Fast-forwarding a couple dozen years, Tim (as he called himself now) is running for judge. He has the backing of his local church congregation--he's been a member for over 20 years now--and the endorsement of the police department because, of all the prosecutors this county'd ever seen, Tim put more bad guys behind bars than any other before him, and in a shorter amount of time. Tim married a nice woman and was well into the awkward phases of his daughters middle-school years. There was no question that Tim was a good man, a good husband, a good lawyer, and a good father.
     But I would ask this question: do we have reason to believe that Tim is, perhaps, not actually Christ follower? This is not to say that he is evil or lazy or anything of the sort. On the contrary, he is actually the opposite of all of those. That's why he's such a stunning example to everyone. However, at what point along that journey did Jesus actually CHANGE his course? And how many men and women in the church are there today who have similar stories? How many people have never, in becoming a Chrstian, ever been lead to come in contact with Christ? Just a thought.

Liberal Self-Reliance
   I would tell you another story about liberal self-reliance, but based on our previous discussion of the matters, I'm sure you can figure out what it would look like--and surely it's as pervasive an issue as conservative self-reliance. My brevity on its mentioning is no statement of support for it. It is merely brevity for sanity's sake.

Blue-Curve Danger
     The danger of self-reliance in any form is that it meets us at the point where we realize that we need something, and seems to gently tell us that we can do it ourselves. In the process, it keeps Jesus at a convenient distance, because we are free to pursue our lives, our ideologies, our dream jobs and white-picket fences, all without forcing us to count the cost. In Matthew, a rich young Jewish ruler came to him asking him what he must do to be saved. Jesus asked if he'd obeyed the commandments, and the young ruler assured him that he had since he was young. With the brevity of almost an afterthought, Jesus essentially says, "Perfect! Now, sell everything you have and give it to the poor and follow me." This salvation, although not based on works, came at a very high cost for this young man, and it appears by the conclusion of the story that it was too much to bear. This young man had built his entire future based on the presumption that being a "good" man was sufficient and that he could just add another thing to his list to be saved, but left sad realizing that it was precisely his plans for the future that was seperating him from the salvation that, all of the sudden, seemed much less attractive. This is the danger of the blue-curve approach. Although either side of the curve may get you over the midpoint, it won't ever take you any further than being lukewarm in your deeds and faith.

Red-Curve Approach: Salvation Through Faith in Christ
     Now we arrive at the pay off. The red curve represents what I believe to be the only sustainable approach across the midway point. The red curves begin from even the extremes of liberalism or conservativism (and, in fact, could originate from almost any point in the lower half) but work their way into the red via only one road--complete reliance on God.
     There are those who were fairly close to the vertical axis in the first place that might not feel much of a pinch in moving up this way. For instance, many who have nothing to lose like poor people, prostitutes, homosexuals dying of AIDS, or athiests dying alone in a hospital, find this route particularly easy. And I believe the bulk of Scripture would say, "YES!" It takes nothing to give everything when everything you have is nothing! And God wants US, not what we have to offer him.
     Those, however, on either end of the fundamentalist spectrum who still have hope in their ideas or their governments, their rules or their laws, their own strength or their own reputation--these are people who have much to lose. For them, approaching Christ means that, in approaching the center, they are also approaching prostitutes, AIDS patients, and what's even worse: their political enemies.
     Enemies. Why, perhaps, did Jesus make such a big deal about loving your enemies?
     Was this for their good? Or for ours?
      As we lay down all the injustice that we feel should be paid back to us, we can feel assured we join those whom injustice has absolutely destroyed unto death. And as we lay down all that we have earned towards our salvation or towards our comfortable way of life we can be assured, we join the company of Him who forsook the comforts of heaven that even one poor, blind, leperous, or sexually immoral human might know wholeness once again. And as we lay down our station in society and our rights to power in a democratic society, we remain confident in our citizenship in the eternal kingdom where the great king will one day judge the world.
     Some he will judge based on what they were able to produce, and those will come up utterly short of the injustice for which they need to be held accountable. But some he will judge based on what they admitted they weren't able to produce. Some he will judge based on their willingness to become like a child though they were a wise leader. Some he will judge based on the way they accepted His Son's sacrifice--and that alone--as a worthy penance for their sin.
     Make no mistake--Jesus changed the playing field of judgment day. Those who want to be judged based on what they can do for themselves should prepare for major disappointment. Because, though all will be recognized for the evil that they have committed against themselves, other people and God, we now will ALL ONLY be judged by our faith.
     Sola fides. SOLUS CHRISTUS.

Love: Defined|Examined|Applied

2008-11-16T14:25:00.000-08:00

     Throughout the course of the last week, I have been vigorously discussing the topic of government recognized homosexual marriage on Facebook. The video I posted was a Special Comment from Keith Olbermann on CNN, and it has prompted an unusually high number of responses from friends, family, and former schoolmates. It seems like, for the most part, we arrived at an impasse and chose to lovingly disagree--a testimony to the wonderful hearts behind all of the participants. It really gave me great cheer seeing how we rarely got disrespectful towards each other, and when we did, we were quick to admit it, apologize, and forgive. Kudos to all of you who participated!
     If there was one word that I felt was the most disagreed upon throughout the entire thread, it was the word love. Everyone involved in the conversation seemed to be rightly motivated out of their definition of love, and that is a noble place to start. But my friend Lindsay brought up a portion of the Bible in her post that we as Christians often refer to as The Love Chapter in 1 Corinthians 13. In this chapter, the Apostle Paul gives us his working definition of love. And, for those of us who believe that the Bible is inspired of God, I wonder if that definition isn't a better place to start than our own definitions.
     In a message response to her, I wrote the following paragraphs as an exposition of what I think Paul is getting at. It's not perfect, it's not comprehensive, and it certainly isn't Scripture. But it is my current perspective, for those who would care to know what I believe. And I hope it will unlock your hearts to pursue love as God defines it with as much passion as you might pursue any political cause or religious experience. So, without further adieu, my post [slightly grammatically redefined to fit this new audience, and with my editorial comments in brackets]:

     I'm really glad you used the Bible as part of the exposition of your opinion. It's a fantastic place for us to be able to reason together, since we both think that it's the word of God and whatnot. But I'd love to just take a closer look at your passage from 1 Corinthians 13 in an attempt to expose my understanding of what I believe Paul was saying about love.
     "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing." First of all, if we are Pentecostals [as both Lindsay and I are], this verse should perk our ears right up! We grew up being made very aware of the gifts of the Spirit, and we have known the importance of those gifts. However, Paul has a very distinct warning to our Pentecostal culture: don't you dare stop loving. Although, we haven't covered what that means yet, precisely, it is important to mention that you and I should both be extremely diligent in applying the following principles to our particular brand of Christian upbringing.
     "If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." Herein lies the caveat to those who promote nothing more than a social Gospel. It's not something our religious past would necessarily condition us toward, but if we were ever to get to a point where we were trying to distance ourselves from our past, surely this would be one of the first directions we'd head. And I'm aware of that fact, and guard against it very closely. Love is not only an outward display, but it is an inward reality of recognizing Jesus as the ultimate embodiment of a life of grace and truth that manifests itself in loving action toward the world around us. So, be aware that we stand together on guard of a hollow, overly liberal message of salvation through good works. But now to the meat...
     "Love is patient." I'll pause right there. Patient. Patience........ What can this mean other than enduring through the decisions that other people are making as they navigate through a process of discovering truth? If love is patient, than how do we apply love through patience to the way we as Christians live as American citizens? Do we create laws that manage people's decisions for them because we are sure we know what the ideal for their life is? Or do we give them the latitude and time it might take them, individually, to go through the process themselves? Which way do you think God is doing this with you or with me?
     "Love is kind." The Greek word that is translated kind means "to act benevolently" toward someone. In other words, love acts with a big heart. My concern about the conservative argument for 'tough love' is that they are basing their interpretation of love on what this passage doesn't tell us about what love is. I hope we could discover something beautiful and true in what it does tell us that love is. Love gives with open arms; Unconditionally.
     "[Love] does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud." Perhaps we as Christians have nothing to envy in the homosexual lifestyle, and that is a reasonable perspective to have. But, I wonder if our desire to make our voices so prominent in the halls of American power is a form of envy in itself. Certainly, once we get there, we grow quite boastful. I was among the Republicans in 2000 and 2004 who cheered Bush's election, and I was quite among those who were encouraged to pray AGAINST Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and John Kerry. Now I see a little more clearly that the greatest danger to a Christian in a democratic society is assuming that, because we are allowed a say by our government, we should say whatever we want, whenever we want. When we pray against a person or party--because candidates and parties represent ideas which may war and clash, but are still composed entirely of humans--we assume that our opinions are so utterly aligned with God's that God himself would come swiftly to our aid just to prove us right. This is our pride. This is our boast. And when we don't get our way, this is our envy.
     "[Love] is not rude." I have seen enough rude conservatives on TV, in pulpits around Seattle, and in political demonstrations to know that we don't really, really take this one seriously. Does this mean that we should avoid speaking our opinion if it might be perceived as rude? I didn't write the words, Paul did. This is a complex issue, and should not be easily glossed over. I'd encourage you to fully explore what Paul might possibly mean by this, and then decide for yourselves what loving conduct might look like if it shouldn't look rude.
     "[Love] is not self-seeking." God doesn't care if America prospers or not because God didn't make America. God made people. The extent to which God cares about America is the extent to which he cares for every human being who comprises the citizenry of humanity. Therefore, can we--as not mere citizens of "America", but as citizens of humanity and of the Kingdom--see that it is sin for us to let America's interests stand in the way of the well being of even one Iraqi? Or one communist? Or one homosexual? I'm glad that we care about the well being of our country and the people around us. It's a great place to start. But even evil men care about their own people. It takes divine goodness to cause men to care about the weak, the foreign, the poor, and the sinner.
     "[Love] is not easily angered, [Love] keeps no record of wrongs." Seriously. Jesus is God, God is love, and love is not easily angered. And we're called as His children to become like our daddy. All of this Christian preemptive political maneuvering toward self-preservation--both in war and in domestic policy--has turned us into a people who look very easily angered. And we keep a record of wrongs with such stunning diligence that we even take a record of the wrongs that MIGHT eventually be done to us, before they have even been done to us! What sin is this?
     You might make the point here, again, that there is a distinction between the right actions of a person, and the expedient actions of a government. Here we agree. But instead of submitting Jesus' commission to love without condition beneath the rights of our American citizenship, I think both Jesus and Paul might call us to surrender our rights of citizenship to the commission to love without condition.
     "Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth." Now, if a conservative Christian were trying to be argumentative, this might be the verse they'd pounce on after ignoring all the preceding verses. Interestingly, you'd find me pouncing right along with them, and I'll tell you why. I hope that I would never rejoice in the sin of another human being. I pray that I could let the grief of the realization of what they're doing to themselves, to their families, and to society thoroughly ravage my heart and cause me to mourn for them. For, to delight in the sin of another is either a cop out of some sort, or an exposition of one's own selfish desire to escape the judgment of their own sins. Therefore, I will not delight in evil, but I will delight in what is true.
     You see, it doesn't say, "Love does not delight in evil, but distances itself from everybody who is evil until they realize that their acts are evil and start coming to church." Nor does it say, "Love does not delight in evil, but organizes society in such a way that people who act in a manner that is the special kind of evil that we can't tolerate shall feel like they have less access to love than 'good' people." It merely says it delights in the truth. And the truth is Jesus--not any code of ethics or morality or acceptable behavior. Therefore, we celebrate the victories that God works in the hearts of people, and apply patience, kindness, goodness, etc, to the failures, as we would hopefully do to ourselves.
     "It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." In what ways does a conservative ideology help us protect other than with a gavel or gun? And, does this use of the verb protect really offer any sort of indication of whom love protects? It doesn't protect only it's own; it just protects. It protects all, always. And if love always trusts--even when planes are running into important buildings--and, if love always hopes--even when we 'know homosexuals could wreak havoc on our society'--and, if love always perseveres--even when others might give in to their nature of writing people off because they take too much expense to relate to or to improve--then I ask you this: why are we wasting any of our time and money on politics as the means for bringing about all this love?
     "Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears." Yes, even this great experiment called America will disappear. All of our freedom of speech, our freedom of religion, and all of the other government sanctioned freedoms will one day melt before the absolute freedom found in Christ. On that day, we will become a society ruled by Christ--not from heaven above with a gavel and gun, but from within our hearts, where He has written His law. But this promise of the kingdom is also for us now. Though it may lead to us being rejected by the world or religious institutions, scorned, spat upon, and even killed in His name, this freedom is ours for eternity if we believe on Christ. Eventually, society will be brought up to speed. But let us not forsake the freedom in our own hearts to love unconditionally to pursue vain human attempts to enforce love in our societies.
     "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me." These issues of love and society are complex issues requiring adult analysis and discussion. There is no pat answer, no proposition, or no law that can truly define God's love ethic. Even God's own perfect law--The Torah--was not good enough to create a society in Israel that loved God and was without sin. It takes the sovereign Spirit of God moving in the hearts and minds of men and women, and the gentle mercy of His Son's grace being demonstrated through the people of his Grace to even begin to make such an impact. Let us put behind us these laws, these rules, and these rights and instead pursue Jesus' higher calling to LOVE everybody.
     "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." We can't get it perfect. But that's the beauty of grace. We need grace; homosexuals need grace; Iraqis need grace; and all the pregnant single mothers of this world need grace. And not just some implied, theoretical grace that is functioning behind our social engineering, but a grace that would descend from our position of power like Christ from heaven. We need a grace that would wash the feet of fishermen (the average worker), tax collectors (those who would abandon and betray the people of God or their own societies), and prostitutes (the sexually immoral or devious). And we need a Grace that would then die condemned by those who would judge Him, although He was innocent. In other words, we need to show a grace to this world that is so obvious, it can be seen as grace through any cultural lens from a million miles away.
     "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." There are only three things left for us to do--have faith in Christ, take hope in all things, and love everyone (God and people) without condition. There are no laws to pass, there are no rules to enforce, there are no societies to organize. There is only to love unconditionally, even as we are loved unconditionally. That is the greatest thing of all.

     I know that was super long, and I'd give y'all mad props if you read it the whole way through. I just wanted y'all to know that I don't draw back from the conservative position because I think they're being too fundamentalist about Scripture. I draw back because I think they're not being fundamentalist enough. Grace and peace to all of you!

Part II: Playing Catch

2008-11-13T19:29:00.000-08:00

Walking across all these bridges,
Has graced me with elegant prose,
My passion explodes like a geyser
growing strong despite frictions below.
Turns out that truth won't fit in baskets,
And life comes from seeds that you sow,
And people have value without my infusions;
we travel--as equals--this road.

The Manager cut me a deal:
He gave me a seat to the Show.
His Son is the major attraction
and He speaks with a casual tone.

I got a lot for a little,
a loan I can't ever pay off.
My soul is a garden, and He's in the middle,
and nothing He's planted here ever shall rot.

Part I: Trajectory

2008-11-13T19:01:00.000-08:00

I want to think about bridges,
I want to think about prose,
I want to think about geysers
fueled by friction below.
I want to put truth in a basket,
I want to teach sowers to sew,
I want to infuse folks with value
and prepare them to travel the road.

I want to speak to the Manager, because
I want to speak at the Show, and
I want to speak with a casual voice
and wear a lapel microphone.

I'd like a lot for a little, but
I'd like to think it's a lot.
I'd like to garden or whittle, but
I'd rather just stay here and rot.

My dilemma...

2008-11-09T11:53:00.000-08:00

Usually my blogs involve a discussion of some impersonal manipulation of words to get some impersonal point across to whomever cares to listen. To those of you who like that, be ye not dismayed. That will not stop coming. However, this particular blog is different.

This goes out to my peeps.

I'm SO torn. SOOO torn. I am trying to figure out what to do with my life, etc. It seems to me like there are two specific paths that are pulling me--perhaps not specifically in different directions--but to pursue one means putting the other on hold for a significant period of time.

My trajectory prior to a few weeks ago was to try to be a producer/engineer in music. I love working on good music. I love collaborating with the vision of an artist and preparing their music for a medium that can be widely distributed and cherished in people's homes and cars to comfort them or make them think. I don't at all enjoy working on mindless, artless music that serves as nothing more than a placeholder for people who feel a right to be involved in music without a demonstration of merit. In my particular occupation currently, I often find myself working with the latter. This is the nature of church music, I suppose.

However, the events of the recent weeks (if you're unaware of them, be assured that you don't have the time for me to tell you about them) have caused me to consider a different course. It has caused me to wonder if seminary is not a better place for this punk kid to end up. I have a lot of ideas about God and life and the church that I have developed through a wide variety of reading and experience. In these recent events, however, my ideas were often discredited as immature, selfish, or undeveloped.

I can understand this critique, and I am open to the thought that my ideas are, in fact, not fully developed or immature. And, based out of a desire to be considered "qualified" to engage around the table of ideas in the Assemblies of God, I feel a strong desire to pursue an academic degree that would perhaps give me a seat at that table. Either that, or I want to study out the issues at hand until I can arrive at a conclusion that appeases those above me and doesn't make me weep with the logical inconsistency of it all.

But then, this weekend, I got the opportunity to record, mix, and master a live concert for my friends Hannah Moreno and John Leckenby. John's songs, in particular, stirred me. His music is inspired and fresh. It's raw and artistic. And it demands an appropriate treatment from a thoughtful engineer to really make it come off well. Having finished mixing his stuff down at 4AM on Sunday morning, I felt like I had been a part of something important. Something with mystically more impact than any banter over statements of faith or communion wine.

And here's the other thing. In the particular denomination that I grew up in, academic degrees don't carry a lot of weight. There is a lot of room for charisma and pork-barrel preaching (I made that up) to carry the day. A guy who has a piece of paper that proves that he can use his head okay is often less respected than a guy who reads two books a year but sweats profusely when he preaches. So, do I really, REALLY want a seat at that table anyways?

All this to say, I haven't got it figured out. And if you had the patience to read this whole thing, then perhaps you have the patience to help me along in this decision, too. I'd love to hear from ya.

Cheers,

Utzy

PS - I attempted in this blog to lay out my thoughts and sentiments in as genuine a fashion as I could without intending to offend anyone. If some of my more melancholy thoughts pitched a curveball your direction, then I do apologize. Thanks for your understanding!

Reformation

2008-11-02T13:27:00.000-08:00

I want to relive that time I was young,
that time I was silly, that time I was loved.
If I could look back on the day I became,
the day I grew older, the day I grew "sane",
I think I could listen to hear what He said,
to hear Him pursue me, to hear him suggest
That I be a beggar-prince, child of the King,
child of the Servant, a child redeemed.
And how I would love Him! And how He would shine!
And how I would marvel at glory divine!

Sadly I've stumbled and built up a throne
where I alone sit, making my glories known.
All who will listen to what I might say
can be my "companion", and I'll give them "grace".
But all who defy me and stand in my way
are tools of the devil, and against them I pray!
For this is my story, and this is my song,
praising my cravings all the day long.

But gently He woos me and whispers my name
with tones like a lover and motherly grace,
He calls me his child, He calls me his bride,
He draws me to His throne to sit at His side.

He shows me the kingdom He plants in my heart,
He calls me to water it, feed it, and start
To think like a gardener tending a seed,
watching it grow and rooting out weeds.
With love like a father, He shows me His ways.
He wants me to join Him as my act of praise.
And, just like He planted His seed in my garden,
He calls me to sowing, lest my soil become hardened.

Nothing I'd sow could be for my own gain,
It goes to my Father; it was His anyways.
And all that I'll need is provided by faith
when all that I want is to give away grace.
It's like I'm a child again, looking to Dad
and wanting to be like Him, making Him glad.

A penny for your time...

2008-10-19T18:54:00.000-07:00

Economy.

Do you feel scared? Angry, perhaps? Anxious even a little? Right now that four-syllable word is being thrown around in American politics and media like a racial epithet. It's being murmured around water coolers as if it were an office rumor about layoffs. And it's being prayed about around dinner tables as though it were the name of a beloved family member on their deathbed.

I had an interesting thought the other day, and I'd love to share it with you. Three words that are central to the study of economics are supply, demand, and scarcity. Scarcity is the problem of infinite human needs and wants (demand) in a world of finite resources (supply). Supply and demand are inversely related. This means that when supply of an item is high, its demand drops for lack of need or want, and therefore its value drops. When its supply is low, then the need or want often increases, which raises its value. The study of these dynamics is the focus of economics.

The most universally finite of all of our resources as humans is time. That's not to say that time is finite--it's just that the amount of time that we have to live is very limited. Because of this, we feel greatly compelled to get a good value for our time, because its supply is so utterly limited.

We seek high paying jobs because it seems to say to us that our time is of more value than other people's time. We honk and yell in traffic jams as a protest of the injustice that is inflicted upon us when someone or something steals our highly valued time. And we fail to spend time with our families, churches, or hurting people because, "Darn it, we're earning money to put food on the table, to tithe, and to pay for the welfare system."

One of the most beautiful things to me about Christ's message is the idea of a resurrection from death. If you believe that Christ died and was resurrected to show us what will one day happen for those who make Him the Lord of their lives, then a very interesting thing should take place in your personal economy of time. You see, supply of time has sky-rocketed for the believer who trusts in Christ for the resurrection.

This should, effectively, decrease the value you place on the importance of time--especially as it relates to your own personal goals. In a Christian worldview where we believe that time is given to us by God in great abundance even beyond death, when would it ever be appropriate for us to not give our time away to someone who was in need of aid? Time is of little economic value to the Christian, except that he or she invests their time in relationships with other people, or cultivates their personal talents through their time to help others who are in need or can't support themselves.

What, then, does Christ say IS of value to a person who wants to be like Him? Well, while your personal ambitions should not be of great importance to you (and isn't very important to God), He places INFINITE value on poor people, hurting people, sick people, immoral and imprisoned people, and lonely people.

Infinite value. If we, as strong and secure Americans, are not giving radically of our time and money to aid the people around us, we are investing in a market that will eventually collapse. It is only through a life that lives itself outward--oriented towards the needs of others--that we can hope to "redeem the time, because the days are evil," as the apostle Paul instructs.

So, in these hard economic times for America, be of good cheer. The economy within which Jesus calls us to participate is not a collection of external systems that flux and fail. The economy that Jesus calls us to participate in is one that springs up from within us as believers, reorienting us towards the needs and desires of others instead of our own.

This is the gift of Jesus to the world which we in turn must give to others. This is the wellspring of peace that surpasses understanding. This is the economy of grace.

Progress Redefined

2008-10-19T16:50:00.000-07:00

If there was a way to change the things that I want,
and needed to have in order to fly,
then I imagine I'd find it eventually.
If there was a way to move my heart forward,
without pushing it out of my chest,
then I imagine I'd just stick with that.
If there was a way to render myself innocent,
without being born all over again and starting with nothing,
then I imagine I'd spring for it after all my sinning was through.

Then I could stand upon my discovery,
mark it with the flag of my country,
and claim it as my own.
Then I could hide it away behind a curtain,
charge admission for its viewing,
retire young in Cabo.
Then I could marry the girl of my dreams,
build a house where we could raise our children,
and eat pot roast after church, before the game comes on.

I have only found this one way;
he showed himself to me and gave me no other option,
and nothing to show for following him.
I have only found this one truth;
he explained himself to me in my suffering
by showing me that others suffer, too.
I have only found this one life;
and it is in the lives of others who are
broken, wounded, and wanting love.

He who does not love does not know God, becuase God is love.

The Antichrist is vying for power in this very election!

2008-10-16T00:09:00.001-07:00

Hey friends,

Despite the amazing nature of this revelation, I have something very important to say before I move on to this powerful news. I want to apologize to all of my friends who don't follow Jesus that might be reading this note. This is an in-house discussion that is intended for my fellow Protestant friends, and it's all mentioned here in love with no intention of starting any fights.

Okay, let's start from the Scriptures, shall we? You might assume I'd consult the Book of Revelation or the major prophets for this kind of eschatological matter. Sadly, there aren't actually any references in these books to the Antichrist. From where, then, do we as Protestants draw this title?

Incidentally, John is the only person to use the term in the entire Bible, and he does so in his 1st & 2nd epistle. Surely these verses will help us discern just who exactly this antichrist really is...and 1 John 2:18-27 doesn't disappoint:

Dear children, this is the last hour; and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have come. This is how we know it is the last hour. They went out from us, but they did not really belong to us. For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us.

But you have an anointing from the Holy One, and all of you know the truth. I do not write to you because you do not know the truth, but because you do know it and because no lie comes from the truth. Who is the liar? It is the man who denies that Jesus is the Christ. Such a man is the antichrist—he denies the Father and the Son. No one who denies the Son has the Father; whoever acknowledges the Son has the Father also.

See that what you have heard from the beginning remains in you. If it does, you also will remain in the Son and in the Father. And this is what he promised us—even eternal life.

I am writing these things to you about those who are trying to lead you astray. As for you, the anointing you received from him remains in you, and you do not need anyone to teach you. But as his anointing teaches you about all things and as that anointing is real, not counterfeit—just as it has taught you, remain in him.

In this passage we see 3 of the 4 references in the entire Bible to this mysterious "antichrist". In this letter of encouragement from John to specific congregations in which he has played an apostolic role. It is not addressed to future generations of the church, i.e., you or I. It has a very specific meaning for its intended audience, and it is our role to draw the application for our lives out of that meaning.

John mentions that the antichrist is coming to those congregations, and that many antichrists had, in fact, already come to them. Well, that's strange... Isn't the antichrist some major world leader who would lead the world into the end times? How come he had already arrived at those churches? And what's this about antichrists in the plural?

You can (and should) read 1st & 2nd John to get a feel for what John's message was for these churches. It is a bold and beautiful proclamation of love. It is a declaration that the systems of man (religion, law, government, etc.) are essentially redundant to the believer now that we have been called to this higher plane that is loving each other as Christ loved us.

So, where does the Antichrist fit into this, and how can we be on the lookout for him in this election season? John mentions exactly what the antichrist will try to block from our view in a passage just before the above quoted:

Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates his brother is still in the darkness. Whoever loves his brother lives in the light, and there is nothing in him to make him stumble. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks around in the darkness; he does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded him.

In other words, friends, the antichrist is any element of the election process that causes us to not prefer others above ourselves. If you're a democrat and you feel or express enmity against your republican brothers and sisters for their their "narrow minded" or "unenlightened" politics, you are strengthening the campaign of the antichrist. If you are a republican and you are looking down your nose at your democrat brothers and sisters who so clearly don't hold onto the Christian values that are so obviously exemplified in the republican platform (i.e., war, corporate greed, fierce nationalism, etc.), then you are strengthening the campaign of the antichrist.

No matter what your specific eschatology may be, one thing that John is happy to remind us about is the fact that love is the most important characteristic we can hope to exemplify in our politics. Politics is not an excuse we find in Scripture for Christians to forsake the role of peacemakers so that we can choose sides and join in the rock-throwing. If anything, it is a perfect opportunity for us to fight against the principalities and powers that distract us from our primary calling: to show Christ's love.

So, as you go throughout your election season, don't be afraid that you're going to vote for the antichrist. According to John, you have more of a chance of bringing him to power by belittling your political opponent than you do by casting a ballot.

Perjury, Purgery

2008-10-13T16:14:00.000-07:00

Perjury, perjury,
You lay your head on my breast and I breathe your words,
I exhale your foul meanderings upon guilty and innocent alike,
Yet, I stand in judgment over the sinner as my vile tongue
Spouts your insanities as though they were judicious wisdoms.

Purjury, purjury,
I am the judge, but I'm the judger, but I'm the judged,
You are the Sinless to be sinned upon, sinned against
by my own judgements and pronouncements of guilt,
I am a fool, assaulted by my own folly; the victim of my own judgment.

Purgery, purgery,
You change me. You soften my heart with love.
You make me what I could be, even though I'm not.
All of the guilt I pronounced to others was pronounced upon me,
But You absolve me of those crimes; You purge me of my iniquitus judging.

Dr. Agape, M.D.

2008-10-04T17:32:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been in progress? Impassioned but in pain?
Or worn a plastic smile to shield you from the rain?
Have you ever felt you're broken beyond the doctor's mend?
Or fell into the river while you're coming 'round the bend?

I had a time of mourning where I thought of all these things,
And then I shared my silence with the counsel of my dreams,
Yet all that was for naught, I hope--it didn't even count,
For grace has brought me into this, and grace shall bring me out.

And as he makes his masterpiece, from pencil or from pen,
Eraser marks are commonplace--perfection's not the end,
For all the works of scripture and the thoughts of holy men
Are just a whisper of the love I feel when I'm loving just like Him.

Functional Savior

2008-09-14T20:22:00.000-07:00

I swam from my sink to the ocean,
And drilled through the holes in my head,
Then sank to the top of Manhattan,
With thoughts that I'd see God again.

My heart's taught me lessons that I can't defend,
It runs me in circles that don't have an end,
Love pushed my heart out of comfortable style
and fuels me into the extra mile.

Buy all you can and live like a king,
Try to be happy with purchased things.
Vote with the party or keep with the trends,
Just ask yourself, "Why does this feel like pretends?"

But share in a sorrow, or aid in a strife,
And see if that isn't where God's hidden life.

Politics of the Moderate

2008-09-14T00:36:00.000-07:00

A rush to the middle only to find
that the heart has a tendency to change its mind,
This isn't something the heart likes to think
because real love is a bitter drink.

There's people around here in wild distress,
Why can't we help them clean up their mess?
A personal satisfaction occurs
when a desperate need is met with a verb
Instead of a vote for the job to be done
by a government office or politician.

There's people around here in wild distress,
Why can't we help them clean up their mess?
If we're so much stronger, can't we shoulder their burden?
If we're so much stronger, then why are we hurting?

Cute Video

2008-09-08T09:08:00.001-07:00

Lightning Hardens In The Echo Chamber: A Progression

2008-09-06T17:47:00.000-07:00

Inquiry > Insight > Passion.
Word Choice > Grammar > Syntax.
Proposition > Discussion > Compromise.
Dilution > Decision > Codifcation.

Sad.

A conversation about abortion & Obama...

2008-09-04T01:51:00.000-07:00

THE FOLLOWING IS AN E-MAIL CONVERSATION THAT OCCURRED BETWEEN MYSELF AND SOME FRIENDS, BUT I'M SO PASSIONATE ABOUT IT, I WANTED TO BLOG IT. START READING FROM THE BOTTOM FOR BETTER CONTEXT. :)

Well, this is obviously a multi-faceted issue. I can't help but wonder why it is that people don't take the time to really try to discover where their opposition is coming from BEFORE they engage in dialogue. Like you said, Zac, these articles are extremely emotional, and--I would add--reactionary.

However, I think there is validity to the emotional side of this issue. It is an extraordinarily heartless thing to have power to potentially save a life, and yet do nothing. That is a violation of every medical ethic since Hippocrates and his commitment to the preservation of human life and health. On an emotional, spiritual, and ethical level, the actions of these doctors are deplorable and probably speak volumes about where they are at as people. I can only imagine being an abortion doctor would have similar effects on the psyche as being an executioner. But, I've never met one, so I don't really know for sure.

Ultimately, however, Obama's actions are those of a GOOD legislator. The role of legislative bodies is to create LAW. The authority of the House and Senate to write laws is endowed upon them by the Constitution of the United States, or through the constitutions of their respective states. Traditionally, the Senate bears the more prestigious and accomplished, professional legislators who have great experience with the law, and can help conform the attitudes and sentiments of the House into something that will stand up to judicial scrutiny as law. It appears that Obama--who is a former law professor, as I understand it--was of the persuasion that the bills which had been put through his committee were INSUFFICIENT as the basis for law, and would ultimately be struck down by the courts. Therefore, because his expertise informed him in this way, it is his duty as a senator to withdraw support from or directly oppose such a bill.

From a legal/procedural standpoint, Obama seemed to be looking to subvert years of petty litigation where a Court would ultimately end up deciding a moral issue. This was A WISE DECISION on his part. Half of the reason that we have courts making legislative decisions that legislatures should be making is that legislatures are crafting sloppy, crappy laws. Obama's pro-actively thorough approach to law-making is both encouraging and admirable, as far as his profession is concerned.

That being said, I would love for government to be able to sweep through and cure the ills of this fallen world. I really would. But, as Jesus demonstrated through His own life, restoration of relationship between God and man comes only through faith in God. If we truly believe that God will be the ultimate, truly just Judge, why are we spending so much time trying to ENFORCE justice? Should we not, instead, commit ourselves to cultivating love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control in our own lives through the power of the Spirit? Perhaps, even more effectively than 1,000 lawyers, senators, and politicians, the Church could be ready with a loving word and a safe place for the pregnant, single woman in its effort to preserve human life.

I wonder how many abortions could've been prevented by church people simply withholding judgmental glances and haughty pretentiousness. I wonder what responsibility for these abortions we will bear due to our lack of love and lack of willingness to help the hurting, lonely, or oppressed single mothers of this country. Honestly, Christians fighting abortion in government is as insane as a doctor treating hepatitis with hand cream, or as futile as President Bush trying to stop Russians from invading Georgia by talking to Brazil about it. It's an utter waste of our resources, and it alienates the Body of the Great Practicioner from it's most desperate patients. God forgive us, and help us to love even as we are loved.

Michael Utz

---------- Forwarded message ----------
On Sep 3, 2008, at 9:40 PM, Zac C. wrote:

As emotional as some of these articles seem, I am curious to hear your reactions to the actual information.

Zac C.

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: John L.
Subject: Hey
To: Zac C.

I enjoyed our conversations, stimulating. Here are a few links for you in reference to what stage of abortion Barak Obama seems to approve.

http://www.worldnetdaily.com/news/article.asp?ARTICLE_ID=51121

http://www.humanevents.com/article.php?id=18647

http://www.citizenlink.org/content/A000007034.cfm

See you soon my friend.
--
John Leckenby

Mood B, A

2008-08-28T01:32:00.000-07:00

Pretense aside, I shift nervously
from contentment into
something like
   vanity.
Deeper, deeper; slowly
so as not to
arouse suspicion.
   gently.
Murmuring lies betwixt my
smiling thoughts
it lies in wait; it
   lies.

Pretense aside, I fail
once again at my
precious attempts to be
   God.
Without forceful display; mourning
privately with no need for
volume or attention;
   softly.
Whispering lays its breath on my
fragile thoughts
it tries to save; it
   tries.

It's First Pitch is B Natural

2008-08-24T00:36:00.000-07:00

I'm going to sing you a happy song when I remember its words,
  The verses start with a consonance to outline the song's happy terms,
One such phrase was "loving you," then something about "best friends,"
  But that part is long before the chorus; that isn't how it ends.

I'm going to sing you a happy song if my feet can remember the rhythm,
  When the band kicks in and the song picks up, I can feel my heart beat with 'em.
And the chorus rings as the singer sings out an anthem of lies and truths,
  I can feel in the Bridge that he needs her to be his,
   that he wants her to be close and to show her what trust is.

I'm going to sing you a happy song, though the chords are as boring as hell,
  But they perfectly showcase the melody's truth as my love sounds aloud like a bell,
I could whisper in time with an elegant rhyme but, my love, it just won't be the same,
  'cause this song's only lyric--and I alone hear it--is simply the sound of your name.

Sundance

2008-08-08T23:45:00.000-07:00

I've missed you since the day you wouldn't love me,
  shadows forming gently 'round my eyes.
I've drowned in waves of sorrow at this prospect
  which consolation failed to rectify.

I've missed you since the day I couldn't love you,
  when passion heeded wisdom's calls to hide.
Discov'ring that you never could have loved me,
  constrained my aching heartbeat to subside.

Night Light (A Song)

2008-07-16T20:43:00.001-07:00

Verse 1
Brighter weather, lighter rains,
Wisps of blue & white and picnic shade,
Stormless emptiness where children play,
We're a sunny pair on this summer day.
It's far too easy to believe that we could live forever,
when living here with you is all I'd need,
Your subtle smile likes to change my world when we're together,
And if that makes you smile,
we could be here awhile.

Chorus
I'll watch the sunset on your face.
I'll let the moonlight take your cares away.

Verse 2
Your love has got to be the best thing that could happen to me,
It's like your moving to my heart beat makes my heart beat faster.
I'm coming home to you, we're gonna make this feeling,
We're gonna make believe there's no one else to please but me and you.

Bridge
When it gets dark and you get cold,
You'll be with me and we can feel the fire inside us growing,

The night is cool and it feels right to watch the stars glide by,
It's like they're guided by the breeze across your face into my eyes,
There's nothing in this world to keep my heart from lying here with you,
And if you hold my hand we'll watch the sun come up beneath the dew.

Will I Ever Be Safe In My Own Company?

2008-07-02T01:30:00.001-07:00

My heart is broken and
my head, deceived.
My spirit's shattered and
my soul, diseased.
My will is empty and
my flesh is weak.
My master is envy and
his dog is me.

He speaks of beauty which
I fail to see.
And all that blindness
fuels my need
To join in holy
atrophy
Where skin meets skin
like love meets greed.

I seek invasion of my soul,
My master's throne to overthrow,
My soul of darkness to reclaim
with love enough to change my name.

In The Garden

2008-06-24T01:51:00.001-07:00

Never get the feeling you're arriving--
you can't know what you're missing if you do.

See, if you feel the instinct to survive here,
instead of living life like it's a truth,
Then hold the tempter's goblet to your temple,
and let that grail's trigger run you through,
But let the record show you as sad man,
who never looked and saw the beauty in the moon.

Yet, if you see this life like it's a garden,
a place where flow'rs and light meet brash manure,
It makes it kinda pleasant just to grow here,
despite the fact that growing's not the cure
To all this stain and pain-filled devestation,
to all the cries that in God's ears ring true,
to any of life's merciless afflictions,
to any of the haters of His truths.

But now the Wind of Israel is stirring,
it moves you to the core and makes you new,
He enters like a Child into the garden of your heart,
and call's you 'fellow man', though you're a fool.

The Discrepancy

2008-06-16T08:55:00.001-07:00

To suffer
To share in the sorrow
To help bear the grief of the wounded or widowed
To carry the call of God into the darkness of the world

Difficult to imagine.

Better change the channel.

Ponderings of a Night Owl

2008-06-13T05:41:00.001-07:00

Sometimes it makes me angry,
Most times it makes me sad,
Often it leaves me hungry
For having what others had.

And rarely it makes me joyful,
But sometimes it makes me cry,
Yet most times it makes me mindless
And leaves me to wonder why.

This sore of my heart is empty,
but so is the blight-ridden cold,
as the sun takes the day with its vengance,
and plunges me in to so-so.

Papal Bull

2008-05-24T07:44:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been awhile since I've done a post in prose, so I fear I might bore the poop out of anyone who might read this. But I've a soapbox to mount, and this is my Speaker's Corner...

I've been in Italy for the last two weeks, and I've had many, many amazing experiences here. However, much thought provocation has occurred in the area of religion & politics, and I feel I have something to confess--I'm not a Republican.

Granted, I'm not a Democrat, either. But I need to make the specific statement regarding the Republicans because I did, at one time, regard myself among their ranks. This is relevant to my Italian meanderings, and I will tell you how. I toured the Vatican this morning in Rome (well, technically in the Vatican City--thank you Mussolini), and saw a number of tremendous and beautiful things. However, the summary concern I have developed on this trip is for the state of Protestant faith in the world.

The Catholic Church has been unapologetic in the past about their perception of absolute monopoly of truth, and Benedict XVI is making no diversion from that course, as his direct successor John Paul II was ready to do. We, as Protestant Americans, however, are not quite so bold in our military enforcement of our similar but contradictory views. We utilize our economic, military, and cultural prestige to bully our way into foreign economies in order to either create a borgeoisie that we can market to, or to break the economy down into a society of proletariat paupers who can create our goods.

But we do so much of this "good labor" in the name of "protecting the American way of life." I am a fan of freedom. I utilize it even now as I write this blog. But I wonder if the motives of those protecting these freedoms aren't a little skewed by the exterior forces. And if that's the case, when we preemptively strike a land in order to "protect our way of life", i.e., Protestant-based consumerism, it just reminds me a little bit too much of what I've seen in the errors of the Popes these last two weeks.

My final point is thus--whereas Christ came leading no war, we should follow suit. It wasn't until 300 years after Christ's death that someone started really killing folk in his Name. That was time enough for everyone whose grandparents even knew anyone who had ever met Him. Let us not distance ourself in this way from the Savior Who promised to reveal Himself anew to every generation that sought Him in earnest. Let us seek the heart of Christ in all our doings--from the pew, to the ballot box, to the foxhole.

The Law of Romantic Deference to the Attractive Young Thing

2008-05-03T23:28:00.000-07:00

Two animals bend down to tie one shoe,

The first stands up smitten,
The second stands up wooed.

The third stands in silence,
where our couple's unaware,
and the stander in the silence
feels the romance in the air.

It was grave, his calm reflections
on those now lost in loving coos,

"It's a sadness that defies description,
When she's with him,
and you're alone
with untied shoes."

If I could write about it, I would. Honest.

2008-04-10T15:03:00.000-07:00

Scare me, I dare me,
I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to share me.

To my future lovers...

2008-04-10T14:57:00.001-07:00

I'll meet you later,
beyond the bridge,
We'll dance a little,
then we'll kiss.

But now it's time to reminisce
about the future of our past,
And time to find a situation
that can fill that future's gap.

Strange

2008-04-10T14:34:00.000-07:00

The depths.

Dangerously Opaque

2008-02-04T19:06:00.000-08:00

It's difficult for me to say
--I wear my blindness on my tongue--
I think he stole my numbness from me,
I think my sense of self is done.

But ask me if I could've guessed
The pain of sudden vacancy,
My answer would, of course, be yes--
A lie that never quite becomes me.

I straggle to the starting line,
To finish up this cruel race.
I bear my trusty firearm,
and broken boots without the lace.

And now I'm finally standing here,
A testament to stubbornness,
I cock my final pistol shot:
My ticket straight to nothingness.

Yet, quick, inside me shines a light,
Entrenched in all my apathy,
A shot inside me stops the fight
That promised me beloved nothings.

Senator Candypants

2008-01-20T20:41:00.000-08:00

Suffrage, a right, but a petty detail,
It coaxes the soul into feeling less frail,

Yet all the control of a ballot and pen
Does nothing to stop you from hurting your friends,

Or missing your mark, or profaning your God,
It seems that our concept of voting is flawed.

You like that your leader is chosen to lead,
but, by whom? Does one vote really mean anything?

When the river of currency carries this dream
of democracy--and all it's trappings--downstream
to a sewered event of enormous prestige,
where your Seward intent is exchanged for your greed.

And you find all the meaning in casting your vote
has been wasted while companies stand on the throats
of the candidates freedoms, exchanged for their dreams,

The magic of voting is not what it seems.

Spiritual Things

2008-01-07T19:56:00.000-08:00

Elementary mystic, suckered by age and illusion,
Readily giving my trust to the unseen,
Feeling pretty good about it.

Middle School master, smarter than most of that stuff,
Didn't feel too close to the source,
Didn't feel too close to anything.

High School scholar, carrying the load of two brains,
Feeling pretty good about myself,
Making the people around me uncomfortable.

College predicament, confronted by the unknown,
Scared, alone, isolated,
Making the best of the worst times.

Graduated Elementary mystic, suckered by age and illusion,
Readily giving my trust to the unseen,
Feeling pretty good about it.

An Ode to the Unusually Surprising

2007-12-22T19:02:00.000-08:00

I had wrote a serenade,
And sang it at a whisper,
Then drank a glass of lemonade,
With sour lips I kissed her.

She had no idea
what this contact meant to me,
And likely she would never,
She was pretty as could be.

She'd had her share of kisses,
From boys so tall and sure,
She showed them off like riches,
But this kiss was new to her.

It carried such great passion,
and yet this made her confused,
It felt a lot like sharing,
instead of being used.

So, sour kisses stained with tears
From all my lonely crying years,
Will challenge all her future fears,
When we remake what's happened here.

Psycho-therapy

2007-12-22T18:51:00.000-08:00

Let us reason together, me and I,
Let us share in the knowledge that we share,
For I have never felt further from myself
Than I do tonight,
And misery loves company.

Tortured immortals, we are,
Wondering if God has saved us both,
Or just the one of us who cries.

Dallas is a Hotel Room

2007-12-07T14:37:00.001-08:00

Footnotes to a Love Poem

2007-11-28T00:39:00.000-08:00

To think of words to put to print,

A virtual accomplishment

Of what is almost sure to disappoint,

I can't remember what to say,

I think about you every day,

I'm hoping you will give these words a chance,

Thoughts on paper disappear,

Though authors seem to write them clearly,

Authors love to write words dearly,

Sometimes you can read mine clearly,

But sometimes I just speak my heart--

The auditory counterpart

To all these duldrid musings on my screen,

I can't find these words every place,

I cannot fake it, can't replace

the feelings mere words can't erase,

the feelings when I see your face.

Propitiation

2007-10-28T15:44:00.000-07:00

Disqualified;
Not allowed to compete,
Not allowed to win.

Disqualified:
Restricted for failing to prepare appropriately.

Disqualified,
Like everyone else.

Redeemed:
Saved by Lamb's blood,
Loopholes, and Grace.

Redeemed:
Still not allowed to compete,
Now I can only win.

Innocence

2007-10-21T06:25:00.000-07:00

We'll start this poem with a word
which, in this context, seems absurd,
but once it's spoken, then you've heard,
the meaning of this absurd word.

Innocence:
A concept lost.
I try to find it, then I'm tossed
Between the melancholy thoughts
that calculate this concept's cost.

It damaged my ability
to see the world surrounding me,
as adults on the stage or screen
portrayed to me this lovely scene
of cherry trees and love and dreams.

But now I'm grown and full of age
and all of its accompanying rage.
Would I be lonely if I'd strayed
and took the time to make mistakes?
What part of me did innocence save?

A damaged psyche, pad and pen,
A damaged ego, probed and bent,
An aimless sense of all my sins,
The remnants of my innocence.

Visual Intimacy

2007-10-21T03:27:00.000-07:00

Contact:
We've arrived.
Not that we didn't have anything to live for
Prior to this. But people tend to
Remember when they're struck by lightning.

I looked up to see you
Smiling. not at me.
I will never forget your autumn
Brow tilted in amusement.
The friend with you must be very funny.
Or you must be very gracious.

Glance my way. Tempt ye the
Fates with this subtle mistake
And see if we can't escape the
Gravity of two souls built as a pair.
Slowing,
Slowing,
slowing.
Surprised fear twists my lips into
an awkward smile and turns my head
at it's neck to look down at the table.
Your gaze has more power than I'd imagined.

I look to you again.
You're still smiling.
I don't know where this is headed.
One thing I do know: we've made
Contact: we've arrived.
And it's not that we didn't have anything to
Live for prior to this.
It's just that I'll never forget how I was struck by lightning.

Treasures of the Darkened Soul

2007-09-30T22:18:00.001-07:00

Albiérti Guilmartín was the son of a good man. Albiérti’s life was not significant. He died of a stroke at the age of seventy-five. There were no mourners at his funeral. The newspaper misprinted his name in his obituary—to the chagrin of absolutely nobody.

When he was three, he was given a harmonica and took up music as a profession. By the age of seven, he had abandoned his love of the harmonica to become a man. Life is hard for the son of a migrant field worker—especially when that field worker is a good man.

Let me forewarn you, reader, there is nothing redeeming about this story. Any man or woman who clings to ignorance in the pursuit of hope should read no further. This is a story about a human being—and the son of a good man.

By grade school, Albiérti realized that he would need a nickname. He did not have a strong name like Mark, or a normal name like John. But he did not want a normal name. He was not a normal person like Mark or John. The name Alti would suit him just fine, he thought. It was a special name for a special little boy—at least that’s what his father said when he suggested it to him. Alti had learned not to think so highly of himself, but liked the way his new name sounded.

When he was older and applying for work in the city, he realized that his heritage might be keeping his phone from ringing with calls from prospective employers. He needed a strong, normal name. So he became Albert Gilmartin. It was only a change in name.

There was nothing for Alti in this life. In school, he was perpetually the odd-man-out. No smarter or stronger or more attractive than the kid next to him, he kept quite to himself. He needed glasses. His father was a good man, but that wasn’t enough for the insurance company. There’s little money for fathers who work the fields, and much less for the sons of those fathers.

Alti had a mother, but not really. The woman who married his father long ago was not the woman who lived in his father’s house and ate his father’s food. This woman, at one time a vibrant young thing, had been eaten away by years of poverty and struggle. It turns out beauty and character, vitality and perseverance, do not always come in pairs. Yet, Alti’s father told her he loved her every night and every morning. Something about the way she rolled her eyes made Alti sad inside.

When he was fifteen, Alti’s mother died. Nobody was surprised by her death. Suicide is a fatal affliction whose final effects can take years to develop. When the symptoms are spotted, they can sometimes be treated. But there is no cure for suicide once it sets in fully. And there is no honor for a man whose wife or mother will not fight for their own cure. Alti’s classmates reminded him of that often.

There is a special brand of cruelty that disfigures the human soul. It is so pure in its sheer force that it can only be dispensed during adolescence—the time during which its effects are most notably inflicted, mind you. Alti was no stranger to this cruelty. His father was a good man, but there is only so much good men can do for young men before these young men become old men. And old men never change.

Love is character’s midwife. Alti’s father knew this, and showed him affection in whatever ways he could. But Alti could not see his father’s love for what it was intended to be. To make things worse, Alti perceived this great strength as great weakness, spurning all receipt of it from his father after the age of twelve. When his mother died, Alti’s father wept. Alti looked with disgust upon a good man. This was his undoing.

At eighteen, he left home to find work in the city. His father desperately wanted him to stay at home, because Alti’s father lived for him. Alti lived for himself. The city seemed a perfect place for someone like that. It was.

When you’re eighteen and the son of a field worker, the lights of a city seem to burn more pure than the starry summer skies of your country upbringing. It doesn’t take long, however, to realize that perception does not always equal reality. After awhile, neon lights and busy streets instill the same monotonous depression of simple, country living. And loneliness thrives in crowds.

He never wrote to his father. Ignorance had helped him defeat his father’s love while he was at home, and distance only fed that ignorance. Love, it seemed to Alti, was not something you wanted in your life. It seemed a hassle and a burden. His father had loved his mother dearly, before and after she ended her life. This life was to be lived through sheer strength, or not at all.

Besides, when he was twelve, he did know what it means to love. His mother, not beset with the ravages of her lethal depression, had cared for him as a small child. And as a grade-schooler, she feigned interest in the little things that brought joy to Alti’s heart. One such thing was a girl named Mara. She was beautiful, and Alti knew it. But so did all the other boys; and they were much smarter and stronger than he.

This did not deter Alti’s interest in Mara. He watched her in silence—waiting to see if she would glance his way. He hoped that someday she would turn to him and profess her undying love. But Alti had never been one to read fairy tales, and thus didn’t realize that only princes and princesses live happily ever after.

One day, he bought her some candy, presenting it to her with all the confidence of a paper doll—which, incidentally, was all the confidence that he could muster. When he is twenty-one years-old, working in a factory, and living in a dirty apartment complex, his heart hardens with the memory of Mara. It makes him despise his father’s love even more.

His father never told him about princes and princesses. Instead, his father told him about hope for the future and love for the people around you. As Mara rolled her eyes at him that day, love and hope fell deathly ill in the heart of that little boy, and they were buried silently with his mother’s corpse, beneath his father’s tears.

Little more is to be said about the life of Al Gilmartin. He was not significant. He went to your school, ate at your restaurant, worked in your office, and lived in your neighborhood. He did not talk to you. He did not smile at you as you walked by, exchanging glances. He did not bring you flowers when you moved in next door, and he did not attend your church on Easter.

His is a life marked by loneliness. No measure of curiosity would lead you to stop him on the street and ask him about his life. If you asked him about it, he’d tell you that that’s how he would wnat things to stay. If you tried to talk to him, he wouldn’t be friendly. It takes a lot time and patience to enter his world—more time or patience than most anyone is willing to afford.

Albiérti Guilmartín is the mission field. There is no glory on earth for the one who makes it their mission to bring him to Jesus. Only a dedicated, devoted, humble follower of Christ even has a chance of penetrating the walls in this man’s soul. No mere human has a sermon powerful or a microphone loud enough to drown out the perpetual lies that have blackened this man’s heart.

The only type of human whom God has equipped with the tools to reach such a soul is one who has accepted the spiritual office of a Neighbor. There is no pulpit or love offering associated with this office. They are not allowed a table in the back from which to sell their life-changing message. They are not brought to the front and recognized for their outstanding giftings—even if they were, they would be quite embarrassed. No, there is no earthly glory for the office of a Neighbor.

“But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.”
- Matthew 19:30

September 30th

2007-09-30T15:43:00.000-07:00

What falls in Spring to renew life,
in Autumn heralds slumber,
Tiny drops like tiny seeds grow tiny thoughts to meet this need
Of needing time to think of things when Summer fun is in full-swing,
But with the closing of September
comes the time to ponder life.

Compliments in conversation
grace these lips whene'er I please,
The rate at which I give them seems proportioned to what I receive,
And in this karmic pondering,
a truth alights inside of me,
That every karmic human being gives in order to receive.

This, my last thought from September, ushered down by Autumn rain;
Drops that drizzle down my window,
down my heart, into my brain,
Collected pools of sheet and pen
from which I drink this Summer's end.
What fell in Spring renewed this life, but left me wanting Fall again.

Broadway & Madison

2007-09-30T15:39:00.000-07:00

My knuckles are white hot and my
ear lobes crimson, boiling with
the nervousness of emotional exposure.

Tic-tic-tic: the turn-signal puts meter to
my impending relational kamikaze dive,
jumping headlong into the death of ego.

Spared! if only breifly by sharing an
awkward churckle with the object
of this admiration.

Quick is the fall, but soft the landing
when compassion steps in to tell you
that nothing more need be said.

Now float we on in understanding shared
by friendly innocence;
though nothing's said, now nothing's missing.

Eugenic Hymn

2007-09-30T15:29:00.000-07:00

Violence and progress: No screams, no cries for help
In this vaccuum-cruciblie of evolution.

Mercy and progress: No sympathy from natural selection
In this species' suicidal improvements.

Progress and culture:
Terrorists in each other's lands.

Driven to succeed are we; to lose the softer poetry,
To gain the upper hand and kill the weaker man,
And revel in the win made by our progress' sin.

Penitence

2007-09-19T01:20:00.000-07:00

To meet my needs.

Sin and salvation,
Love and lust,
Mercy and mutiny.

All my atrocities and all my charities;
Every action I take.
To meet my needs.

Forgive me, for I am sinned.
Strip away my rotting flesh, and
Be unto me, now, my only Need.

Infuse my suffocated soul with your expressive wind.
Give refreshment to the parched spirit that whispers these humble syllables, and
Be unto me, now, my only Need.

I could be all the things You want me to be,
I could tell the world about You,
Write You beautiful songs,
Show a woman Your love and lead our children to serve You.

If only You were my only Need.
If only I wasn't all I see.
If only I wasn't all I see.

Lord, be unto me, now, my only Need.

Seeds of a Protest

2007-09-15T12:49:00.000-07:00

Recompense the innocent, liberate the blind,
Hold in tow the prejudice that pounces from behind,
Frighten all the nobles with your adequate demur,
Always moving in advance of all the progress we endure.

Share with the flock your nothingness you tout as fine cuisine,
And bear with us as we resist the counter-culture scene,
For revolution smells of hate if all the little ones you raise
Could starve and not have food for days if war breaks out,
If peace betrays.

So everlast to everlong, this melody of stink and song,
I hear again from this great throng of free men who might sing along,
If only they could have their fight without a fight, at half the price,
And hold in one hand their ideal and in the other evening's meal.

Scooterwagon

2007-08-23T00:45:00.000-07:00

Like a team of highly trained but poorly motivated dwarfs
Lashed securely to the front of this pushcart of a life

My dreams in post-card form
Form cardboard posts under my dreams

It leaves me borrowing consonant and verb from the tiny isle of my understanding
Participle and paragraph flow without source from the fountain
of a hard day in the weariness of a hard day's night

And the elves are dancing when they should be pulling
And I'm pushing when I should just be riding
And this stupid wagon is functioning a lot more like a scooter than it should
And sometimes it makes me want to cuss
And if those damn elves would just pull this pushcart like they're supposed to

Then I would never buy these post-card dreams to remind me where I'm supposed to be.

Contact with the Evergone

2007-08-23T00:32:00.000-07:00

Lost
my mind today
and thought that it might
be nice to be sane or lifeless
but not anywhere in between
like where I find myself as we speak

Lost
my life this month
Carried it into this dream
and left it somewhere on the road
next to the things and people that I love.

Lost
my soul to hell
Wish I would've just
said something that one time
when I knew I wasn't what my pride
had built me up to be.

Lost
and not found
Compute the difference
between what could've been
and the wretched land of the Evergone

We Stand on the Shoulders of Giants

2007-08-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

Stumbling under the influence of my inadequacy
Down the pathway of my dreams
A ghastly realization floods my senses
Rendering palpable the waves of hopelessness and despair.

Sugar and wine laced through the fuel in my balloon
Determine the course of this piteous adventure
Linking me, curiously, with the figures of the past
Present, and future who didn't know
And feared ignorance the most.

I can only imagine they had more to lose
And less to gain

Fantasy laced with determination replaced their uncertainty.
I submit to you they never heard the trade go down
But moved ever forward in their piteous adventures

Until, at last, an epic emerged.

Sympathy

2007-08-15T00:10:00.000-07:00

With a role of my tongue and the tip of my "shoo!"s
I force from my mouth this emotional rouse
That extends to the deepest and darkest of truths
Expressing the black of my soul through-and-through.

Pretending to mend what's been mended by fire
Consuming pure love with this business attire
I carry the burden I'm bound to retire
When all of my memories fail to inspire.

I sit in my element, resting my head
My intellect bound by mere needle and thread
A cost that could only be paid by the dead
A cost that a hopeless man only might dread.

Isn't it funny how the biggest ideas are most accurately represented with the least number of words?

2007-07-28T01:03:00.000-07:00

Two distinct revelations I've had of late concerning the Christian life...

#1: The most obvious and binding points of commonality between the members of a church congregation are the things they're not willing to give up for the cause of Christ.

Think about it. Then, comment. I'd love to open that idea up to discussion. I think I stand on solid experiential ground, but I recognize that there are most assuredly exceptions. So, don't you dare accuse me of making hasty generalizations. I know this principle is not universal--but it surely seems to be a pattern worth observing.

#2: The boldest and most controversial action in the history of mankind was an act of undeserved forgiveness.

Not a mind-blowing discovery, but still a meaningful revelation for me. It hit me at a time where forgiving was the only course of action that people weren't really suggesting for me. But God dropped this 'nugget' on me while I was in the shower--I think God uses showers in my life more than he uses altar calls, now. Anyways, just let that one sink in if it's meant to hit you, or nod your head and move on if it isn't.

Poems Inspired by the Great American Pastime

2007-07-28T00:47:00.000-07:00

The Safe Company
One lusts for distinction,
Nine work against him,
One man longs for his place in this existence,
Twenty-thousand disinterested observers put him there.

Obscure amongst the crowd,
He shares in the mediocrity of his delusions of fame,
For, although the nine may work against him,
The twenty-thousand cheer his name.

Quest
It's spring this July,
and there looms in the
air an intelligent hue.
A marina green blended
with tints of brown
and progress.
Young love sways in tandem
with old friendship to
the tune of Louie, Louie,
To each his own we all, for
the most part, remain.
But gradients of starlight
and sunset, architecture
and nature, loneliness
and emptiness,
Continue to, for all of us,
mesmerize and inspire,
And it is this atmosphere I
could never choose to afford
if this July came at any
other season.

The Living Light

2007-04-02T23:46:00.000-07:00

Best I can figure, life without God is like this:

You’re a star floating out in the middle of the dark universe—completely consumed by yourself, you feed upon your own chemical reactions in a tumultuous series of selfish transactions and self-absorbed fantasies. Wild and unstable, it is only a matter of time before you run yourself out and dissolve into oblivion. Some of the stars have, in fact, imploded upon themselves and become black holes, sucking in the light of the others. Nonetheless, most of these stars are just trying to bring light to the darkness of the universe in their own little way, all by themselves. Bound by their own gravity, however, most will never know anything beyond their own desperate personal struggles which will likely crush or incinerate any object that dare wander too close.

Life with God is like this:

You’re born as a star. But somewhere along the way, you’re given a chance to start over. Regaining a sense of consciousness, you realize you’re no longer an inanimate object, but have actually become human. “Silly,” you think to yourself, “that I never realized I wasn’t conscious before.” Nonetheless, you now find yourself standing with God and Jesus and in the fullness of the Holy Spirit at the edge of the great expanse of the universe.

You peer out into the darkness which is strewn brilliantly with galaxies and super-novas that shine in resplendent glory. God turns to you and says, “You know, it’s interesting. I created this universe from nothing just by speaking it into existence. And all I wanted was to have someone with whom we could share it.

“And in creating the first man, I had done just that. But seeing the beauty and majesty of the universe, Adam and Eve decided they’d rather BE the stars than just sit back with me and enjoy them. From that day on, every man was born a star.

“We never stopped looking, though. I wanted that relationship with what I had made. I continually wooed the stars—calling to them from what they thought was the darkness. The Spirit, through the fibers of their very being, testified to them about the purpose for which they were originally made. They shone with beauty and majesty—the crown jewels of all that was created—and yet short of that for which they were intended.

“Finally, I sent my Son as one of them. Despite the fact that he did not burn, He shone with a light that would obscure even the largest of them ten times over. Due to the sheer magnitude of His light, many of them realized the futility of what they were doing, and sought out the Son to follow Him, as you did.

“You are now a bearer of that Living Light amongst the stars that burn so hard and hot. No matter what they do to shine, you shine brighter. No matter how furiously they work, they will never be as beautiful as you who bear the Living Light. You are both the art and the onlooker now. Go out into the darkness, and show the stars how to shine.”

Poem: Why Are You So Sad?

2007-03-18T22:09:00.000-07:00

Solemn. Solemn.
Nothing moves. Nothing motions.
Holes in the dark.
Clothes of light's absence.

Silence. Solitude.
Nothing seen. Nothing spoken.
Whispers in the void.
Heirs of good intentions.

Cold. Cold.
Barely warm. No one's breathing.
Sinking in the shallows.
Victims without malice.

Material Witness

2007-01-13T21:26:00.000-08:00

I'm reading this book about the history of western music--a topic that's not too overly broad... :) It specifically concerns, however, the progression of our methods for tuning instruments over the years. As it turns out, the greatest obstacles to developing our present tuning system was not placed by musicians or scientists, but by philosophers and theologians. These opponents of our modern system (called equal-temperament) were motivated by a strong adherence to tradition and a sense of mysticism coupled with this pervasive notion that God / nature were required in some way to correspond to each other through the language of mathematics. Anything that did not fit into their predetermined mold was not just considered undesirable, but irrational or completely heretical.

Now, I know you're probably not getting a very good portrait of this whole struggle from my poor summary, but bear with me as it brings me around to an important point. (If you wish to hear more of the struggle, read the book Temperament by Stuart Isacoff.) Why is it that we as humans require that everything fall into our little mold? For generations, humanity has struggled to cope with that which we do not understand. This problem has plagued our churches and our academies, has been the source of endless struggle and war, and has perhaps been one of the most formidable blockades to progress that we have ever encountered.

This problem is the great enemy of both the faithful and the cynic. It has bound the thoughts of both the least and the greatest of the thinkers. And it seeks to destroy me. Even now, as I write, I become that man. It is something that no man desires in times of gentle reflection to be, but does inevitably succumb to upon the challenging of their ideals. My prayer for myself is that I will always have the presence of mind to grasp those things which challenge my ideals and to withstand those blows to my ego that might otherwise crush a lesser man.

Flying High in the Friend Zone

2006-10-13T02:23:00.003-07:00

I went to England this summer, and in London we saw something of great interest to me. It's an area of Hyde Park called Speaker's Corner. For the last few centuries, anyone who had something to say has been welcomed to Speaker's Corner where they were allowed to say anything--whatever it is that they want to say. There was only one rule: you have to be six inches above British soil to speak. Most people, therefore, were forced to bring something to stand upon--usually a soapbox. Permit me to continue in the tradtion in my own Speaker's Corner, here on my soapbox.

I have a problem with these friends of mine. The problem is that they're girls. Well, that's not the only problem. The other part of it is that I'm a guy. That's a big part of it.

I tend to be a really emotive, albeit unemotional individual. As it has been observed about me, I tend to make friends with fairly unemotional girls, as well. Among the leading problems with this situation is the following--I often grow to like these girls. So many of my friendships are, in this way, castrated by the fact that my heart is easily drawn to any girl that I trust. But these girl's hearts hardly ever go out to anyone.

Put your Kleenex away. This is not a sob story, but an observation I have made about the fairer sex that seems to be fairly standard. I grant to you up front that my objectivity in the matter could easily be brought into question. However, a subjective opinion is not necessarily a wrong opinion.

So, they say relationships are supposed to be based on trust, right? It's to be the "foundation" of the relationship. I have no quarrel with that statement. On the contrary, my quarrel is with the people who say that but take no time to consider what that means. Because they haven't considered it ahead of time, when they are confronted with said situation they often contradict themselves by their own actions.

If a relationship is supposed to be founded upon trust, doesn't that mean that you should look to the guys or girls you trust naturally when you begin to look for that special someone? I know that means thinking about your friends in ways that may not make you feel comfortable right away: that's completely natural. It is important to remember that we often make some of our poorest decisions based on initial feelings, though. Ask most anyone who's ever spent time in prison.

My plea is just this: don't discount your friends from the search for that special someone. There's a good chance that, in doing so, you're cutting yourself off from your best options. You all deserve your best options.

Utzy

PS - I mean no specific harm to anyone in the contents of this letter. If I've effectively cauterized my relationships with anyone by writing this, then I apologize. I just think it's important that friends can share feelings amongst friends. I love you all dearly.

An Open Letter...

2006-10-13T02:23:00.001-07:00

Dear Modern Christian,

I have a small hypothetical that I would be much obliged if you would consider. What if it were decided that worship to God was best expressed corporately through any other hobby, exercise, or occupation than music? Say, knitting or mechanics. If God were "most blessed" by the "mechanical work of our heart," would I struggle as much with making it a sacrifice? If the majority of Christians felt that a well-crafted casserole were the most passionate expression of devotion available in a corporate setting, would I find it a more special thing to participate in? Would the knitter or mechanic or cook then find themselves in my position: understanding the human components that went into making the item and feeling it less special than other expressions of worship? Even though they're gifted in what they do, would they be told by people who aren't as gifted that they're doing it with "the wrong attitude" just because they're doing it better than everyone else?

Worship is the way you live your life and devote your passions to God. Don't put people in a box. Please.

Sincerely,

Church Musicians

Blogging the Goodness of Life

2006-10-13T02:22:00.001-07:00

So I've been redoing my myspace as of late--going around and updating the personal information and boring facts that nobody really reads but people just put up there to feel less alone--and I noticed that the titles of my blogs were, for the most part depressing. Then I realized that I really only blog when I'm upset and I want to express my depression or anguish and let it float out on the web for all infinity. I decided to try to balance out the scales by blogging while I'm not unhappy.

Actually, since the time of my last blog that was brought to you from Cambridge, England, I've had the opportunity to get absolutely no rest. See, at 4 in the morning on the day after graduation, I left for Europe. I spent a week in England, two weeks in Romania, and then we came home. Two days after arriving in Seattle, I returned to the school to start training for Summer Ministry Teams, and have been on the road for the last 8 weeks since then, doing services and camps in Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, and Montana. So, in the course of this summer, my intrepid friend Warren and I will have traveled over 20,000mi! (The circumference of the earth at it's equator is only 24,000mi.) Needless to say, I'm exhausted and fulfilled in ways that I never knew was possible. That's right, so far I've weekended in London, Budapest, Romania, Denver, Salt Lake City, and Glacier National Park. I've driven through the Rockies and seen some of the most beautiful scenery available to us in this country.

So, things are good right now. I haven't written much in the way of lyric or poetry because that tends to come best in the monotony of a daily routine, but my compositions tend to flourish when exciting things are going on in my life. I'm reading a book that contains interviews from about 40 record producers from all over the globe, and I decided that that's pretty much what I was designed to do. So I'm going to have to figure that one out...

Umm, I'm beginning to think that I don't usually blog during the good times because that turns into rambling more than anything, which is an activity that I currently find myself participating in... I'll let you get back to your own lives. Now the scales are tipped, and people won't think I'm just depressed all the time. :D

Thoughts from Cambridge, UK

2006-10-13T02:21:00.002-07:00

I'm not going to try to tell you exactly how much my visit to England has meant to my life because frankly I don't even understand it yet. Honestly, I don't think that any single week in my short history has as of yet been as vital to my understanding of the world. I've stood in buildings that are 800-1,000 years old, seen documents and rooms that held the thoughts of men whose actions changed the world so greatly, that their effects can still be seen in everyday life in America. And, perhaps most importantly, I've seen how important breakfast--specifically a Full English Breakfast--can be to starting your day off right. :D

Just a quick run through of where we've been, almost more for my benefit than yours. We arrived in West Sussex at Gatwick Airport on Monday morning and left right from there to Windsor Castle which is the main home of the queen when she's in London. The architecture and design is so grand, old, and elaborate, that no words or even pictures can describe it. For the first time in my life, I stepped into a building that was built 400 years ago by hand. I saw tapestries. Real tapestries. Have you ever seen one of these before? They're magnificent!!! The guilding of the rooms, the elaborate ebony, ivory, gold, chestnut, cedar, silk, silver, and marble art that compose the structure are really beyond words. There is not one thing on our continent that can compare with the experiences.

Anyways, from there we went to the Natural History Museum in London where we began a panoramic tour of the city. In those few hours, we visited Buckingham Palace, Big Ben clock tower and the House of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge, Scotland Yard, Trafalgar Square, Old London or the Square Mile, Harrod's, Piccadilly Circus, etc. Any major attraction in the city, we've seen it. We went back to our hotel, and Trev and I crashed. We'd been up and traveling for roughly 24 hours at that point. :D

The next day, we took an excursion to Canterbury Cathedral, which is the seat of the Church of England. The building was 600 years old, and took over thirty years to build BY HAND!!! Again, there's no words. One observation: sadly, there is now a Starbucks Coffehouse built into the wall of the churchyard. Seattle will prevail! :) Next, we drove back to London to Southwark cathedral where such men as Shakespeare and John Harvard attended church, and sang an informal concert there.

Upon returning, myself and some friends hopped the tubes and did our own informal tour of the city, including stopping in some of the parks, eating out, hitting up a public house (pub), and swapping stories on the London Bridge. In the words of the famous British author Samuel Johnson, "When a man tires of London, he tires of life: for everything life affords can be found in London."

In that vein, we left London for Winchester and Salisbury cathedrals, which were both magnificent displays of architecture and acoustic engineering. At Canterbury, the former principal organist, who runs the musical bookings, said we were the best young choir to have come through there, and he's been there for more than a decade. In Winchester, we got similar compliments from the vicar in charge there. From there, we went to Stonehenge. A bunch of big rocks in the middle of a field. Wow. :$

We stayed the night in Swindon, got up in the morning and drove to Cardiff with a stop in Bath where we sang in Bath Abbey and visited the Roman Baths there that were almost 2,000 years old. The town was gorgeous, but I got crapped on by a big pigeon. Luckily, the barber was walking by right as it happened, and it had happened to him just last week, so he had me come to his shop and he cleaned me all up. :D Cardiff is a magnificent town in Wales, where we sang at an exservicemen's club. That was not as interesting, but certainly fun.

We woke up and toured Cardiff Castle, which was very, very pretty. There were peacocks out in the yard, and they are absolutely gorgeous animals, but quite mean. ;) That evening was the U.K. Football Association (Soccer) finals at the stadium that was right behind our hotel, so the city was packed with fans prepping for the World Cup which is in Berlin in about 25 days.

We went from there to Bristol where we sang in the excellent acoustics of Bristol Cathedral. The princept there, who is in charge of the music for the whole of that diocese, said that Concordia College had done a formal concert there the day before. For those of you who don't know, Concordia is a renowned choir from the North Central part of the country, and our conductor Bill Owen went to college and sang as part of that choir twenty years ago. The princept said that they had nothing over us. What a compliment!!!

Leaving Bristol, we traveled onward to Cambridge where we arrived last night. The town is lovely, but the steam room in the hotel was even more welcoming to this weary traveler. ;) We sang at the Eucharist service this morning at Great St. Mary's, which is the town's Anglican Church. I took my first formal communion, and was very moved by the content of the sermon and the solemnity with which they took their communion. The wine was tasty, too. :D

So, now after eating lunch at the Eagle Pub down the street from King's College, I am writing this blog to catalogue my experiences here for my future reference and your present enjoyment. With a stomach full of lamb, gravy, and Yorkshire pudding, I express these sentiments with great conviction: you cannot experience fully what it means to be a member of the human race as a community until you visit Europe--and specifically England. Life's short and then you die, but it's things like this trip that make that little time here more meaningful as you begin to see the scope of humanity's work over the years. Absolutely marvelous.

In Christ,

Utzy
Phil. 1:21

A Hole

2006-10-13T02:21:00.001-07:00

There's not much to be said about nothing, except that it consumes you with the stealth of the morning's dew. Within and without are devoured as the emptiness tears a pool in your lungs so deep that all good humor is submerged in its oppresive equillibrium. To be numb to pain is to be numb to pleasure, and for what it's worth neither is acceptable. Is it hatred or jealousy that fuel my fuming? Is it lust or lonliness that isolates me in this crucible of futile thoughts? Am I really nothing without someone, or do I just think that because that's what my emotions cry out to me?

I plead with the Creator for some reprieve from this hollow nagging, and He does provide a type of balm. But none so powerful as the solution divined from the beginning of the human race. This hole--this empty potential that is left where a best friend is meant to reside--lies scarred by the inconsistent nature of the single life. A wound uncovered lies open to more pain, but covered bears possibility for healing. I pray the Lord send me my healing balm on a daily basis, as faithfully He has. But I pray also that the final answer come swiftly, and with all the grace of heaven's angels. For there is no thing to be bourne but the pain of lonliness when it falls upon the hearts of its pray.

Good cheer finds its place in my heart as I push ahead. I continue to learn about myself on a daily basis, and am becoming more and more of an individual as time progresses. I seek an understanding that I cannot fathom. I seek an emotion I cannot feel. I seek an end I cannot myself attain. In all my seeking, the only thing of value that I've found is the only thing worth finding in the first place. Hell may not be my destination, but whereas mortal lonliness is a type of hell, I bear the most empassioned sympathies for those whose ultimate destination it is. Whether my lot be lonliness or otherwise, it will be everything within me that seeks to make a message of help for those who would otherwise not know his love and grace.

We're All Screwed...

2006-10-13T02:19:00.000-07:00

There's something fundamentally wrong with the world in which we live. I know, you're wondering where I've been all your life: a man with such profound insight... :) It bugs the crap out of me sometimes, and it has been getting more and more agitated as time goes on, and now I think I know what it is. It's me.

We've been told all our lives that we need to be this and do that and think this and feel this way and so on and so forth ad nauseum. There's no end to that which we're "supposed" to be. At first, I just tried to do it. Having no reason to distrust those telling me this, I thought it best to go for it and see what happened. That served me well for quite a few years, until I realized I wasn't living up to the standard. No matter how hard I tried, I could not be both productive, and caring, and good, and innocent, and happy, and creative, etc. all at once. I was screwed.

This led me into a search for what was most important: if I could prioritize what I had to do, then I could do just the important stuff and let the little things slide. But a careful reading of the expectations, i.e., the Bible, reminded me that there was no prioritization, and that not doing the smallest little thing in my estimation as bad as doing the biggest big thing. I was screwed.

So, I then began wondering about whether or not the being who placed these expectations upon us was even real, because surely if he was both infinitely good and infinitely wise, he would've realized that I just can't do all this stuff. But, my grasp on that which was real, and my perceptions of my experience up until this point refused to let me believe that God didn't exist. It just didn't add up. Screwed again.

Left with nothing but an overwhelming feeling of having disappointed myself and the being that created me, my spirit reminded me of a truth that I hadn't ever known the meaning of until now. That truth is called Grace. It was like the square peg that didn't look like it should fit in the round hole that I'd created, and yet it did.

However, I found that I was going to have to be stretched to make this thing work. A sermon by Wes Davis reminded me of the ridiculous idea of "asking Jesus into one's heart." When we are saved, we are caught up in the life that Christ gives, and either we give it all up in the process, or we aren't being caught up.

This is the life, now, that I lead. A life that's constantly under construction; constantly being changed; constantly being solidified. Sometimes it feels like I'm on an operating table that's in a van driving through rocky terrain. But I know that I will eventually make it out of here with something eternal: something that finally satisfies all of the questions and desires that leave me with that queer feeling of something being wrong with life. Until then, I'm screwed.

Life is the Son of a Gun Sometimes

2006-10-13T02:18:00.000-07:00

Life is nothing but a scrapping brawl. You can't lose if you keep fighting. Sure, you yourself may lose your part of the fight, but if you keep doing your part, God will be there to take care of the rest, and thusly you can never lose. In other words, "greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world."

Statements like this have been lost on me before. There was a period not too long ago when I thought I could think my way through life, but that proved to be quite an impossible task. The result of that particular quest drove me into a fairly deep depression.

Then, I thought I could do well if I just acted on feelings and denied my thoughts and moved on the motto "if it feels good, do it." Luckily, my parents raised me with certain convictions that kept me from doing anything too silly. But that was ultimately unfulfilling as well, and actually drove me into a fairly deep depression to the point where I was in counseling and on anti-depressants for a time.

Soon, it struck me that I was not incorporating the element of my will in the development of my worldview, and so I set my nose to the grindstone and just started doing things to get ahead. A sort of voluntary workaholism, if you will. This proved more beneficial in affecting my attitude at the outset than either of the previous methods, but I have found even now that doing things just for the sake of doing them is hollow.

So, this blog is here to offer support to anyone who is stuck in any one of those modes: thinking alone is an empty hole that leads to insanity, feeling an empty hole that leads to depression, and doing an empty hole that leads to, well, an empty hole. In the good advices of the Greeks, I would say this: "All things in moderation." However, that doesn't mean not pursuing any one of them and just giving up. It was no mistake that both the Old and New Testament remind us to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Notice that every aspect of our being is incoporated in that. I honestly think that the reason for that is not just because God deserves it, but because we cannot survive without giving all of our everything to something.

Be encouraged, because this revelation encouraged me. Fight the good fight of the faith with everything you have, if for no other reason than the only other alternative is death. In war, it is the coward who dies in shame, but the man who cares nothing for his life will either die with honor or be able to live knowing that he did what needs to be done. All of you who are in Christ are more than conquerors.