This is what I've been thinking about.

idols

I've got a classmate from Ghana. He preached a sermon intended for his congregation back home, comforting people without food because of the lack of rain. He exhorted them to stay away from idols and to have faith in Christ.

When you think about that, well, it's different. Different from me, a million miles away from where my mind is. People hungering for food, worshiping idols.

I suppose the main difference is that our problems and sins are easier to ignore here in America. The task in Africa is to confront the sin of idol worship. Wow. It blows my mind.

Here? Man, take your pick of sins. But no matter what, you'll take heat. A pastor in Canada is in trouble with the law for speaking God's truth about sin. God says don't be selfish. Don't desire what others have. Don't have sex outside of marriage. Don't pick your favorite idol to bow down to.

It comes back to idols for us to. An idol is any thing you trust in with all your heart. God doesn't like idols. He hates them. He wants them destroyed. Completely. God promised land and rest to the Israelites. But they had to clear the land of idols and all who refused to worship Yahweh.

I grew up in the Evangelical church and heard a lot of law-heavy sermons, some fire and brimstone. Then I moved to LA.
I tend to bristle against judgement. harsh words. blunt truth. But there it is. God is holy. He cannot stand sin. We can though. We can stand it just fine, thank you.
The time is coming (and it's coming soon) when it'll be really difficult to avoid speaking the truth on sin. We make ourselves accomplices with sin all the time. But reaction is getting stronger and stronger.

"You can have your belief over there in the corner as long as it enthusiastically encourages my belief as well. You believe the Bible is true? You believe in miracles? You believe in marriage?"

Talk about counter cultural. We are in a tough spot. Don't want to be like those crazy fundamentalists. Don't want to be like those crazy liberals. Maybe if I just keep my mouth shut long enough no one will notice me. And I can go on with my day and my life. Yeah, I'm a Christian, but not like those other ones. I'm a cool Christian and I drink and stuff, but its complicated...so like, I like good music and stuff too, not like those lame Christians.
Wham, wham, smack, smack. We can knock out those other guys. All the meanwhile, we are smacking around our cousin and our grandma, and the rest of our kin.

God's coming. And he is going to bring some judgment and its going to start first with the house of God. The Man is coming around taking names.

And what is He going to find us doing? What are our lives? We have the promise of rest and a place with him. What are we doing building settlements in the wilderness? We are just passing though.

"Christian" is not just another category for your facebook profile. We're God's people and we have God's promises, but we act like we're already home. This is as good as it gets. We forget the promises. The seem pretty distant. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.

Comfortable is the opposite of our calling. If we're Christians, we will not have comfortable lives, if we do, we really REALLY need to examine ourselves. If
"our" Jesus is a Jesus that does not make us uncomfortable in some way, something is wrong. He riled up everybody. He produced anger, confusion, and sadness in people. We need that. In a good way. Not the kind of emotion caused by us turning inward and freaking out because of all that we have to do, or because of a relationship, or because of all the stress, and anxiety. These are all legitimate troubles that we have and will continue to have our entire lives. They will never go away. BUT, the stark reality that we must be faced with is God's reality. He wants to kill us. He wants us dead. Because we are unholy and he is THE HOLY. We are not basically good. We are basically stupid. We basically want all the good for us and none for others. We want all the pleasure and none of the pain. But God will bring the pain. He is the light that shines in the darkness and He will reveal everything.

But don't fight the pain. It's good. You've got to be killed to be made alive. Our God is a God that encounters us with His Word. He comes to terrify those that are comfortable. This is the maker of the heavens and the earth. We sit complacent. Why do we doubt that He who made everything we will ever see and experience, can not do whatever He desires.

Look at us. We deserve to be crushed and condemned and killed. Who are we to despise God's Word and truth and commands? Who are we to flaunt his grace? We gladly sin. We wear sin as a badge. We parade it around. Look at us and our sin!

But the Man will come around.

The Man will come, but The Man has already come. He is here. Now. We look to his first coming so that we will withstand the second coming.

The second coming will be for judgment. The first coming was a rescue mission. We were pulled, forcibly removed from a burning building - our sorry state. Our guilt and debt was removed and Christ righteousness was placed on us. We are now in Christ. We are united in his death through Baptism.

We cannot do good; even our best intentions are filthy rags. We will always be crushed, but we always have the cross. We are promised eternal rest. In this life we struggle. We must. We continually war with the devil, the world, and our sinful nature that try to pull us toward false belief, despair and other shameful thoughts and evil desires.

This is not our home. We have a place prepared for us. A holy place, cleansed of all the junk that weighs us down.

We have God's promise; to that we cling. We will always have struggle. It is our calling to always be on guard, to watch, to be ready. But we are not people without hope. We always have comfort. The Man is here for us. We encounter Him through the Word. The Spirit works through the Word to encourage, enlighten and strengthen us. It really happens. Christ is really present in the bread and the wine. He promised and we believe. Christ is here now in tangible ways. He comes to us in his Word. He offers himself where He may be found, in the presence of all his people.

Who are we? What are we doing here? Try to make sense of your life outside of Christ and you will fail. All life flows from him. He is the source and fountain of our faith and the author and perfecter of our life.

God, forgive us for forsaking You, Your Word, and Your people. Keep us steadfast in the true faith until life everlasting.

Seven Stanzas at Easter

Seven Stanzas at Easter
by John Updike

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

link

Where has TGIF gone?

It is the weekend. Almost. I am ready for the weekend so that I can relax. I mean, work a lot on homework and papers and projects. What has the weekend come for me? The axis of my universe is askew and my equilibrium is upset and the space time continum is out to brunch with the flux capacitor and Rufus.
Weekend of delight, come back to me. Weekend Cloud, be gone. Where has TGIF gone? I call on Urkel to be my Kinsman Redeemer.
Weekend of unweekendness. Working for working on the weekend. Week, end! Week! END!

little big.

i used to lay in bed at night when I was young and imagine what I looked like laying in bed. Then My imaginary camera would zoom out to my house. Then my neighborhood, then the state, then the country, then the world, then the universe. And I would imagine blackness and white dots of stars and I would get really scared. AHHHHH!!! I would want to scream. I couldn't comprehend it. I was really really small and the universe was really really big. Why did I exist? Why was I me?
Lots of people try to explain stuff. But some stuff will never be explained. We can't help asking question, but some answers never quite seem adequate.
How can Jesus be both God and man?
How can the Father, the Son, and the Spirit be one God?
How can the bread and the wine be Jesus' body and blood?
How can water and words save someone?
How can God view us as his children?

Because God said so.
We rely on God's promises.
Is it possible that the maker of the universe could do things that we don't understand?
By God's grace this is true.

Hooray. the Tigers are in first place.

90 Shilling

The 90 Shilling Ale is tasty. It brings me the same happiness I had when I first tried Fat Tire and Newcastle. My brain says "yum" and my glass is content and so am I.
I give it 5 meows out of 5.

What is sin?

Most of us have the inclination that deep down, we are genuinely good people. I mean, think about something that you are embarrassed that you did, or ashamed of. We tend to regard our behaviour that we don't like as a mistake. We think that if we could just have a "do-over" then we would do it differently. We think that us at our worst is not the "real me."

We can honestly not believe that we are as messed up as we are. We hate other people and we wish the worst for them. We hate God and reject his path for us.

"Whoa. Hate God? No way." Right? Yes, we do. Everyday. And it is only by the grace of God that he overlooks our rebellion and hate that we have for Him and His creation.

We rebel against God. We do not "make mistakes." We rebel a thousand times before breakfast and don't even know it. Adam and Eve's disobedience was not a "slip up." It was sin. We sin. And it is the same as Satan and his demons storming the gates of heaven. We want to dethrone God. We, at our worst, want God dead. We wish we could put Him in the ditch and establish ourselves as ruler.

"I'm only human." That's true and it's no joke. It's a condemnation. It's not funny to mock God, despise His Word, and indulge ourselves getting fat on our desires, hogging our time, our money, our words, our thoughts. "It's mine." We're entitled to a little something for ourselves, right? We get drunk our entitlement and live in a state of stupor, we engorge ourselves on the shiny things of this world, we stagger up to God's altar and vomit up his creation which we've consumed and corrupted. We're no longer simply in the world. We are the world. It's no longer us and them. We're all the same. What distinguishes the church from the world? Nothing? What distinguishes you from those in the world?

Christ.

Only Christ. His life. His Cross. His resurrection.

If we don't take sin seriously, we have nothing we need to be rescued from. Sin is serious to God. It makes the promise of our salvation even more amazing. We don't properly view our sin, but God does and freely offers us life, hope, and forgiveness in spite of ourselves.

"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." I Cor 5:21

Easter Triumph, Easter joy!
This alone can sin destroy;
From sin's power, Lord, set us free.
Newborn souls in You to be.
Alleluia!

candy

I have lots of candy. Easter candy. Valentine's candy. St. Patrick's Day candy.

Sugar, sugar. honey, honey. That's a song. It's from the prehistoric days of dinosaurs and saber tooth mammoths.

I like eggs that are not eggs, but are chocolate instead of egg. I also like fried Chicken that is chicken and not chocolate.

I made a game ending double play to secure a victory for my intramural softball team today. I had a rough day at the plate, lots of infield grounders plunked into the mud. But I redeemed myself with a sweet scoop at the hot corner. Bottom of the 7Th (last inning) bases loaded, we're ahead 8-7. 1 out. I snag a hot shot down the line, touch third, fire to second. Double play. We win. I rule.
What made it all the more impressive was that the elastic band on my pants was dead and I turned two while my pants were falling down. I kept my composure and ruled the school.

word. It was because I had my coffee next to the bag to energize me between at bats. Since they outlawed greenies, caffeine has powered me to victory and great success. it's better than a fried chicken flavored chocolate egg in the town of Bedrock.

RIP Bird

Fidrych

I can't get no.

Life is restlessness. It is dissatisfaction. Nothing is good enough. Even the best, at times, seems like it could be just a little bit better. I am always searching for the best food, restaurant, drink, but it is a neverending search. I could try the best of the best, but still be wondering, “Is there something better?” There is always an itch that desires to be scratched, but then still longs for more. The pursuit of pleasure, entertainment, fulfillment will always be lacking this side of eternity.
There are times that we may have a break in the clouds, when eternity shines down upon the dirt. But even these times we may ignore or miss completely because we have conditioned ourselves as to what “good” really is.

We have promises of what is good. We know what it is and where to find it if we open our eyes. If we take off the soil-covered spectacles that we have picked out of the landfill. Heaven came down in flesh and blood. The eternal is in the material. To eat and drink and bathe in. To hear, to read, to learn, mark, and digest. To speak, to teach, to proclaim and to cling to. Letter by letter. Syllable by Syllable, by crumb and by drop, Christ invades our spirits and demands residence. He is not satisfied with part or section or fragment but stakes his claim on every last pore of our mortal flesh. God descended to earth to make his dwelling with you, in you and through you. Seek God where he may be found and you will be satisfied.

Easter Monday

I slept too late. I didn’t get done what I wanted to get done by this time. I tend to have all these grand plans of what I would like to accomplish that are usually beyond the capacity of any human being. But I still have them for me.

This morning I just sat and thought. For about an hour. It was one of those lawn mower moments. I used to mow the field of my grandpa’s old cottages out at the lake - it was a good-sized field - and I would think. I think it was one of the first times in my life that I had an extended period of time to just think about life and took advantage of it.

You can get the same feeling when driving for long stretches through sparsely populated sections of our U S A. Driving in urban environments will of course induce the opposite sensation, but those long thinking times are usually associated with movement for me, trains, cars, planes, lawnmowers, whatnot.

I didn’t really do much moving this morning. Well, actually, I guess I kept getting up out of my chair and looking out the window for no particular reason. Like I was waiting for the mailwoman to arrive with a package that contained a really great thought. Or an advertisement for the new Chinese place down the street that provided a particularly striking insight. Maybe a coupon for 2 dollars of my next carwash will really clear up things for me.

Some days it’s easy to get up and go out and do things. Other times, its nice just to sit. No one ever really has that luxury though. Except that I’m on vacation today. I’m on a vacation from my worries like in “What About Bob?” Actually today is the last day of my Easter break. ]

Easter. And who really cares? If any day should be “different” I suppose Easter would be it. Now today is Easter Monday, but still, It’s Easter and who cares. Every year another Easter passes and I‘m still the same human with the same flaws, which seem to be growing more apparent rather than slowly ebbing into the night.
Hate, bitterness, despair, envy, jealousy, desire, and rage are all still here. Are people still the same? Is the world still the same? It’s not getting better? The same? Worse?

I guess I’m not supposed to live as one without hope.

Some hope in the world. I hate, loathe and despise these people at best.

Some hope in the rapture. I lampoon, mock, ridicule these people even though I am of the same family.

I do have a promise of new life. I have a promise of a restored body. And of a life that will not end. I have a promise that I will be with God in an amazing and indescribable place.

But some days the hope is hard to find, to grasp, to believe, to take a hold of. The Scriptures appear to be a jumble of words. Prayer feels like I am talking to my ceiling rather than to the maker of heaven and earth. That’s how I feel. Like God is ignoring me. Life is a grind. Why continue to grind through life day after day when you will be laughed at for believing the unbelievable and dedicating yourself to apparent fiction. Why slog though the muck of everydayness when you are lumped with ignorant and simpleminded fools who disgrace God, scripture, America, themselves and me with their legalistic, uneducated, emotive, lunatic ravings about their truth?
You can give in to the world. Chuck truth and refuse to ruffle feathers.
Then Christ is optional.

There is truth. And my ranting about it will probably come off as equally legalistic, uneducated, emotive and insane as those brothers and sisters of mine that I despise, but that’s all I’ve got. I don’t have anything to add to the world that hasn’t already been said. I am not going to invent, uncover, unearth or reveal anything has hasn’t already been here for ages. I do have a loud voice though. I can make it heard. I used to sell peanuts and Angel games and half the stadium could here when I called. Some would clutch their ears and writhe in pain.

That’s one thing. But really, the volume of our voice doesn’t matter. You don’t want that to be the thing that is offensive. By no means. The truth is offensive enough. People don’t always need a harsh word; the crushed need comfort. But the comforted need to be crushed. Boy, are we a comforted people. Whether we are in reality remains to be seen. But we love being comforted, or at least the search for it, which usually ends in us being crushed. Straight up truth will do that do a person. We try to ignore the truth, but then it peaks out. When reality is allowed to shine, it’s a jab to the jaw. Keep everything behind the curtain, sooth, medicate, ignore pain, sin, dirt, grime, dark thoughts and feelings, guilt, remorse, resentment, anger.
We never fully get crushed. Maybe a pinky or toenail here or there, but we escape.

Truth and reality and consequences are not fun to dwell on, not happy times, so comfort never comes, just more patchwork medicating. The truth crushes. The damning truth of our inadequacy, but The Truth comforts. We are inadequate, but there in One who is Adequate. One who Is. One who is Comfort, who is the Beginning and End. He became pain for us. This One lifted all our trash, our garbage, all about us that we loathe, that we ignore, that we hide, that we despise, that we try to forget — took that and applied it to himself. The Pure became the Impure. Think of the worst thing that you ever did. That’s what Jesus became. He became our sin.

The thing is though that Jesus was not just man, but God. and God is not sin.
He’s not dead or condemned. He is alive right now.
That’s Easter.

It matters even we when we think it doesn’t. When we think the things of God are of no effect, well, it doesn’t matter because they are anyway in spite of what we think, or how we feel.

That is where quite a bit of comfort comes in. God is unchanging. Truth is not captive to me, my, life, my circumstances, or my emotions. It just is. God just is. He is God and I am not. When you feel small and insignificant, good. Because you are. You are special only because God said you are. That is better than your mommy or your daddy, or your spouse or yourself telling you that. Because He is God.
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.

There are two kinds of fear in relation to God.
There is the fear that God is coming to get you.
And there is the fear that God is going to leave.
One causes you to run away and one causes you to run toward Him.
At the resurrection we can rest, but in this life we’re never going to stop running. The question simply is, “In what direction are you running?”

Colombia Monserrate Competion Lot #5

Monserrate is a community of 28 families some two hours down a bumpy dirt road from La Plata. The town itself consists of a single street draped along the top of a gorgeous ridge with a commanding view of the lush green valleys on either side. At the highest point in town sits a brick-clad church and bell tower.
The coffee grown here is Caturra and Typica varietal. Each family has its own de-pulping and fermentation set up, along with raised drying screens protected from the rain by parabolic roofs of transparent plastic. The drying areas are set up on a slight incline, so that both ends of the tunnel can be opened to allow airflow across the coffee.
Since every family contributes coffee for export, each fermentation and drying process has to be done perfectly, or it could compromise the entire shipment. Happily, the whole community takes great pride in their work, and the results show very nicely in the cup.

This sucks. This is the type of marketing that works on me. I like stories. Tell me a story about the coffee and I will want to buy it. A church? There is a brick-clad church near the coffee? And a gorgeous ridge? lush green valleys? I want to be there. I want to travel to Columbia just for one slip of this coffee. I want to spend time with those families. I will even graciously volunteer my time to help them de-pulp their Caturra varietal.

No one knows what any of this means. Just use technical or foreign words and people will take it as the gospel. It works in church. That's all this is. The orthodox church of white, college-educated, urban consumerism.
More, more. give me more. Make me feel good about myself because I work too much and all I want to to is travel and escape monotony and discover a cause that is true to the real me, the inside me me me, I'm discovering who I am, I'm I'm me me me figuring stuff out with my my my life.

Just give me a cup of coffee and call it a day. I'll make up my own story about it.

Who needs unbridled enthusiasm?!

it wont be long until we are in wee Britain and though it shares a similar fickle temperament as that of the plain and flat Midwest, I believe that that are a few other enchantments that may make our stay there bearable.

Rick Steves and I have an understanding. I suppose it is a general understanding that exists between me and the elderly (or close to it). I have similar interests to these folk and Mr Steves writes guidebooks that refreshes my soul, a soul that yearns to be elderly yet is trapped in this prison of youth and vigor.

For instance. Other guidebooks tell of places to go clubbing, party all night, meet young single travelers. That may be some other deviants' idea of fun, but I prefer the places such as King Arthur themed dinners, the Ewe-phoiria Sheep Dog farm, and bed and breakfasts. For those of us that are 28, approaching 79, these are the highlights of the twilight of our youth.

I do not wish to meet twenty-somethings. I wish to avoid them. They with their loud music and colorful mixed drinks. They with their unbridled enthusiasm and ultra light cigarettes.

I am the "I reluctantly shop at Trader Joe's, because of the scarcity of family-owned grocery stores" generation. I am well aware that I am what I consume, and if that happens to be the same as that of a Korean war vet, then so be it.

The fact that I am producing letters and words on a computer rather than a typewriter is a source of guilt and frustration for me.

I would be fine without an automobile and even better without electricity, as long as I can use a transistor radio to pick up the ball game.

But really, that's a bunch of schlock. I like "technology" as much as the next guy. I listened or watched 9 different baseball games the other day. That of course is of utmost importance, but in other ways we have many more things today make us stupid and divert our attention from any matter of lasting importance than ever before.

You can talk to co-workers about American Idol but fair trade and labor laws?

There needs to be more fair trade. It's really been bugging me.

I think I will dedicate my life to that issue.

Before, my cause was climate control, but, I don't know, I'm really thinking I need a different cause to make my voice heard.

I'm really into peace and stuff and causes and being active and social and things.

Ok.

Maybe I don't want to talk of things of "lasting importance" unless I can define the terms.
Defining terms is critical I have found. In pretty much any kind of conversation. Talk about "life," "love," "faith," "god," you're sure to get 250 million different definitions.
It can get confusing.
You talk to someone for a half an hour and you realize, "Oh, we're not talking about the same thing." Even though you are using the same words.

--

In England they have all kinds of different words than we do. I suppose it will take me a while to get used to that. I don't know if you ever get used to something that is different though. That's why Rick Steves is around. He tells me everything I need to know about what I don't know.

They are chopping down trees in my back yard.
Grind. Grind.
There is a big wood chipper that they are throwing branches in.
There is no William H Macy or Steve Buchemi in my back yard though.

I drink coffee. I like the organic, fair-trade, shade-grown Ethiopian blend the best, not only because it is from the birthplace of coffee, but because I can do so so much for the world by sitting at home and drinking a cup of joe. it really makes me feel good about myself.

Today is the mandate day. 4 big things: footwashing, institution of the supper, gethsemene and Judas' betrayal. Tonight i will strip the altar and chancel of all paraments (liturgical cloths) and other liturgical items (candles, etc) in preparation for Good Friday.

It is kind of incredible how Jesus set himself so resolutely toward Jerusalem and toward the certain death on the cross. What was he thinking as he rode the donkey into town as people sang praises? What was he thinking as he served his friends who would soon scatter? What was he thinking as they fell asleep again and again? What was he thinking when one of his inter circle handed him over to death?

baseball

on tv: i am flipping between the red sox/tb, chi ws/kc and stl/pit games.
i finished listening to the det/tor game radio broadcast and now i am switching between cubs/hou and nyy/bal games
nym/cin on game day
sea/min on gameday mini

Opening day in st louis

and it is snowing.
so i will listen to radiohead and drink coffee and read about how apparently the "Spirit does not need a vehicle" according to that foo zwingli. What up, Zwingli? The Spirit can have a vehicle if he wants to. What's your problem with vehicles? He could have a 82 ford mustang or a bike or a rickshaw, but he prefers water and bread and wine. Hey, would not be my first choice either but I'm sure God can get around how ever he wants to wheels or not.

I'm listening to The Band.
Prof n Stein is about to start.
Prof Lewis is on the soap box this afternoon.
Every week we get together and drink a keg and a different professer gets on our soap box and rants about something.
I help out and set things up. That also means that I get more beer time.

Becca is out of town this weekend.
I will be working on:
a paper on the "New perspective on Paul." A bunch of scholars say that Paul wasn't really all about justification by faith. They say that Luther misread Paul.
we'll see.