The High Road?

I read through Matthew last week as part of a new commitment I volunteered far, and one verse in particular caught my attention: Matthew 5:47 which I'll paraphrase to
say, "If you greet only your friend, what do you do more than an
unbeliever?"

I spent a recent morning past, and most of the same afternoon hours, climbing a mountain with a visiting friend. While I tried my best to time it so I'd be back for a meeting, I thought it more prudent not to rush the experience and as a result, I was late in getting to where I was going. But it was one of the few times I could admit that it was worth it. Here's why:

This friend of mine I've known since high school. He isn't a
Christian, yet he's one of the people I can trust in my life with
anything, any topic of discussion, and he's always willing to
challenge and explore an issue. We were talking about talking, and
writing, and communication, and the importance of honesty in
relationships, all over some hours of hiking so I'm editing a lot, but
at some point we touched upon the terminology of "introvert and
extrovert" each of us being somewhat representative of the two
extremes.

This friend of mine meets new people wherever he goes. He's the first
to enter into new activities and experiences, he welcomes strangers
and readily includes any and everyone at all times in all things
finding every aspect of human interaction invigorating, whereas, in
stark contrast, I find that without conscious effort I can let days
pass without any interpersonal communication of any type transpiring
between myself and another human being outside of the confines of the
internet, and when in the company of more than one or two I'm happy to
be silent unless called upon, and happier still to leave if the
encounter has proved particularly exhausting, as such circumstances
often are for me though I have the capacity to hide it well.

I've often used "introversion" as an easy excuse for my unwillingness
to reach out, say hello, meet new people, etc. Then, at my friend's
persistent questioning, I began to explore exceptions to that
convenient rule: in teaching children - it's hard to remain
introverted, so I engage in "edutainment" which isn't too much of a
stretch considering I went to a dramatic arts high school (with said
friend) and have been a part of a number of dramatic endeavors over
the years - also, in personal training, which was my livelihood before
teaching while pursuing acting, and I was an encourager then, and as
animated an individual for my clients as each relationship
necessitated. This revelation led to the confession that to some
degree, introversion and extroversion are choices, or formed habits,
each with their own place in the teachings of Jesus.

The problem I have to face is, in learning this, how responsible have I become? In sharing it with you, how far do you now go? Any thoughts? You needn't tell me, but I hope there are.

- TPK

On Having Shallow Roots

I started going to a new Church about a month ago and completed the requisite Membership Classes today.

The Church is called "Jubilee" and the founding pastor is a young man, in his mid thirties. His vision for the church is that it would be a hub for international missions. The church is independent, non-denominational, and has a steady influx of foreigners passing through its doors.

Last week there was a guest speaker there who shared a picture with the congregation. The picture began with a hand coming down from heaven, hovering over North America, grabbing a giant tree around the trunk, and trying to loose the tree from it's hold in the earth, but to no avail. The roots clung tight to the earth, going too deep to release the tree. The hand moved, came to East Asia, found another tree and pulled. This tree came out half-way, but still a single root tapped too deep to unearth and free the tree. Finally the hand from heaven came to another tree, this one had shallow roots, but they were wide, stretching all around the world. When the hand grasped the tree and pulled it was easily uprooted. The hand shook the tree to loose the dirt still clinging to the roots, turned it upside-down and transplanted it into heaven where the tree flourished, bearing beautiful fruit, that fell in abundance all over the world below.

For some time now I've struggled with the idea of not having a home. I moved from my country of birth to a country of residence when I was twenty, and failing in setting roots there, I've spent the last few years in a transient search for a place to call home, from country to city to a four month stint in Africa, and now a year in the far east, feeling ever more the sojourner, resident of the world, and ever less a citizen of any one country, and trying to identify more and more with my identity of an heir to a kingdom not of this world, and at long last I've found some freedom in the image of a tree... for the second time, though the first tree was barren, having two branches, holding up the life given up for mine that I might die and live anew by the abundant grace of God. And now this new tree, representative not of one, but of many, who have forsaken their ties to the world, having been shaken free, not without cost, and transplanted into a new kingdom, to bear fruit together, and bear witness of another tree, the first, by which all are saved.

It's an amazing image to take hold of. My prayer is that such may come to pass. There's still some filth to shake free, but I feel unhindered by my earthly ties, and all the more ready to find a home, but not one of a handful of dirt, one of grace and love and mercy, that I might grow and produce the fruit we're all made to bear.

- TPS

Blogging the Bible: Numbers

Numbers has lots of numbers. It start with various censuses of the people, but in my thinking, this book is sort of depicts the overall quantitative exactitude of God. Numbers goes into extensive details about the modes, means and measures God required of the children of Israel in the matters of various offerings, rituals of cleanliness, and additional laws.

This book reminds me a little of the watchmaker, the calculating creator of the universe, who had a plan from the beginning: to love people, and for people to love and worship Him through their freewill choice, but in the only manner acceptable to such a God: in perfect holiness.

There are some narrative elements in the middle of the book, including Aaron and Miriam's dissension, a few rebellions and complaints, and the initial refusal to enter into the promised land, the prophesies of Balaam, and a few battles, deaths, and consequential errors, among them the forty years of wandering that are the setting of the last two books of the Pentateuch.

There is plenty of meat (mostly quail) and manna in the pages, but they're laden with the numbers the title speaks of, and while it remains God's Word, and as such I cannot speak against it, I was glad to reach the other side. I prefer the arts to the maths and sciences, but try to understand the importance of all in turn.

A Letter to Ann Coulter

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ucac/liberaltalibanissuesfatwaagainstmisscalifornia

Dear Ann,

I think Miss California's stand for her views, that some think cost her a crown, but I firmly believe procured her a much greater one, is laudable, and the subsequent tumult in the media is despicable, and your standing up to fight on her behalf, wielding your political rhetoric with such poise and promise, is a wonderful thing, but it's a little akin to a skilled mercenary joining a civil war to acquire the potential wealth of the victors, rather than support their cause.
Miss Carrie Prejean may very well be Christian, and may very well be Republican, but the continued linking of the two remains a blight, not a shining light, on the former (Christianity) as the latter (Republicans) are pretty far off the mark when in comes to representing a full spectrum of Biblical values. I feel it's been said before, but must be reiterated again and again because of the adamant voices of some who keep wanting to unite these ideologies for personal gain: Libralism is not the opposite of Christianity. After all, Jesus came to liberate all humanity. We are liberated because of God's grace. We are commissioned to liberally share that liberating grace with the world. If anything, the word liberal bears a far more stiking similarity to the Good News; one of the things we should be liberated from is the mistaken belief that we can do anything outside of that grace to improve our standing, corporately or individually, with God. So I'm sorry to say that whatever political affiliation you register with doesn't matter much.
Taking the message of grace and covering it with such vitriol is like taking the wedding feast of the lamb and smothering it with a steaming pile of... kimchee (first illustration that came to mind); some will devour it, love it even, but it's certainly not a meal for every tribe and tongue as the preparer of the feast intends it to be.
I think you're a valuable voice to publicly balance the opposition to so much that I too oppose, and as I appreciate Miss Prejean's example, I laud your own efforts insofar as they extend towards a similar end, but I think you touched upon the power and the true beauty of the subject matter at hand in citing the grace and humility with which such a message is shared. As beautiful as an individual may be, the message is greater by far, and it is the message, not her own, that won Miss Prejean her crown.

- TPS

Selected Correspondence II: I thought that I would be better at this.

I thought that I would be better at this.

I never thought forgiveness was difficult. I’m coming to see that that is because I’ve never really been hurt before, at least, not in any way like this.

I realized that I was merely a casualty of my parents’ divorce, and so forgiveness came in understanding that the offense wasn’t ever really against me. Likewise, in their subsequent remarriages, my parents’ spouses were no offense to me, but rather were filling spaces in my respective parent’s life which in turn affects my own, but less when put in perspective.

I thought I was a forgiving person because I got over the things that hurt and through the past few years of struggling to love someone I always had an underlying hope and faith that love, however flawed and human I made it manifest, would nonetheless prevail. Thus when we’d argue (or fight as she so termed such conflicts) I could always love her a moment later. When she needed a break I gave her one, understanding it to be just that, and as it turned out to be something more, when she started seeing other people, a mere hour in her company was yet enough for me to assuage most doubts because I could see that she still loved me, and forgiveness came inevitably after any vestige of hope returned. Of course as the years went by in frustration the hour sometimes took some days to get there, still, we danced a month before her wedding and I thought for sure we were in love.

Now I’m alone in this city, and despite the warmth of late I’ve been cold since the 13th, wrapped up in my own insecurities, and every night I can’t escape the thought that all of these past three months have been a nightmare and I’ll soon awake to love again, but not a different person, it’s still her, and it’s hope in vain this time and so no forgiveness has yet followed me here and I don’t know where to find it. All it does is hurt from one day to the next. I have managed to keep it numb most times, in public, but alone I feel it. Around her family, our friends, driving towards the places I used to see her and think about her, and there is nowhere in my life that isn’t so, because she’s still in my thoughts every day, though they’re not so loving anymore. It hurts. It keeps me from anyone who might ease the pain, or share what small successes or failures I’ve endured in life for want of having to love again into a void where all my love is spent and my investment is lost and married, and I can see no future past another unrelenting day tomorrow full of silent torture and my inability to forgive a pain too great to forget.

Forgive me.
Help me to forgive.



(I'm not sure I've progressed much further than the sentiment here expressed, despite the fact that these experiences are years old. It is this broken relationship that haunts, stifles, and informs my present far more than it should. Again, I would it were another. Nonetheless, the conclusion is one I could still use more often than not, be it for this same relational scar, or fresher wounds I bear. Forgiveness isn't easy.)

- TPK

Selected Correspondence I: I Miss You...

I miss you.

I didn’t breathe deep enough when I saw you last, and now I’m in too deep, and it hurts, and I want to breathe but if I do I’ll drown because there’s no air left to breathe this far down. You are the first question I’m asked and I have no response but to miss you more. I can’t escape my thoughts of you because they’re everywhere…
Driving I can’t help but wish you were there to keep me from tormenting myself. Then I think, better me than you, yourself, because there’s a chance you’ll still speak with me when the trip is done. It just seems like wasted time when I’m alone, looking at the vacant seat beside me. I remember the time I had your company and over the phone it just isn’t the same. I prefer to get lost in your eyes than in the small town intersections up North.
I missed you at the hotel; I couldn’t enjoy the hot tub because I kept wondering if you would. All the rooms had two beds so I’m sure you’d have been accommodated.
I went to church today and thought it better you weren’t there and forced into introductions and smiles and hugs I couldn’t be too sure of as far as motives were concerned.
I missed you at the mall when I managed to return your sweater because my decision making skills buckled under the pressure of what to get you. You said black; I hope you like at least one of my attempts. I met a friend there too. We caught up and she had quite a story to tell, and she made me appreciate and miss you all the more.
I miss you at night. Tea just isn’t the same. And I’m not as comfortable and consequently quick to sleep without your influence at hand. I miss your dog too, and thus miss you. He’s not like other dogs. Sherlock isn’t Matty, but isn’t Woof either. Give Woof some lovin’ from me.
I wish you sat across from me so my eyes could settle on you, and rest, and stop searching for you everywhere only to be continuously disappointed when the car is not so banged up, or the hair is too short, or too long, or anything yours is not except enough to wish for a second that maybe you’re not as far away as I know you are. No one else is you, and I miss you.
I miss you when people ask me about me because I don’t know what to tell them about my friend, with benefits, who is such a huge part of that answer but doesn’t fit into the work and school song and dance that makes things easy to sum up. I can’t sum you up. Not in any more than three words.
I miss you when I plan my days and can’t reserve the time to look forward to the best part of it.
I miss your smile and your laugh. I miss your eyes. I miss your ears. I miss your voice. I miss your hands and feet. I miss you like you’re not just up the road, or across town, or getting off work soon, or getting ready for bed but yeah you’ll be up for a while if I want to stop by when I’m done, and you’re not on the phone or brushing your teeth or taking a shower or running around or out, or you are all those things and I’m just not there to miss you like I do then because I’m here missing you like I do now.
I miss all I know and I know all I miss, but I’m used to it. I’ve missed you every minute we’re apart whether or not I knew it, and I’ll miss you again, in part or in whole, because there’s much I have yet to miss.
I miss you when I’m writing because I’m not happy with the product. I can’t tell you how much I’ll really miss you until I can be with you again and stop missing you.



(Now if only I could apply this old letter to my savior, and not a broken romance...)

- TPK

Blogging the Bible: Leviticus

The Law. The Pentateuch has to be the part of the Bible I struggle with the most, and of those first five books, this one is the major cause. The Levitical Law is often hard to reconcile to Christianity until you see it for what it is: a characterization of God, of Jesus, of the standard of perfection that Jesus maintained as he lived on earth, filling in much of the questions about his character, his early years, and the life he lived up to turning thirty and beginning his ministry. That's my take, anyhow. Which certainly helps me to appreciate my savior a little more because seriously, it's an incredibly strict behavioral standard. Thankfully, Jesus lived it and gave us a more consice, but at times no less difficult standard to live:

"Love the Lord your God... love your neighbor as yourself." Mat: 22:37-40

"These things I command you, that you love one another." John: 15:17

Still, I prefer to focus on love than rituals for cleanliness concerning molds.

An Old Thought...

So I went to church today and a guest speaker was there, from the IHOP in Kansas (not the pancake place) talking about Jesus. Jesus the man, Jesus the boy, Jesus the child. It's not something one thinks about too often I imagine, God as a child, or a perfect child, or as diminutive as one would care to continue to get, but if one does perchance believe in the divinity of Christ, it's an interesting exercise of faith to envision Christ learning to speak, taking his first step, nursing, learning, being taught by his own creation about his creation. Practicing carpentry and missing a nail, because a sinless life can still include a black and blue thumb or a few scrapes and bruises and sleepless nights. Extending that image of perfection to today I could see Jesus shunned by other children because he had values and standards, being rejected at times by his own family, his brothers and sisters jealous and resentful. The thoughts led to a revelation that there is indeed a path of perfection in every realm of life. It doesn't include hitting every free-throw, I could see Jesus the boy being picked last for the team because he couldn't shoot, it isn't something he had done, and some skills have to be learned through practice before they are developed into percentage points, but all the same, in missing the shot I could see Jesus enjoying the fellowship with friends, or suffering the hurt of being deemed a disappointment to others while struggling to keep things in perspective. That's what it all comes down to: perspective.
How do I see the circumstances of yesterday, today, and tomorrow? I see some as extremely pressing and critical for the course of my life, but those should be resolved by the course of eternity, which I myself have little control over, with the exception of the choices I make day to day, like whether to lie, cheat, or steal, or be honest, upfront, and sacrificial. More often than not it's in line with the former three I'm sure. It's so much easier to have myself the center of my world. Easier in the sense that I have only myself to be accountable to, but such is not the case.
I choose to hold myself accountable to a man who lived, died, and rose again in perfection, because no other standard suffices.
I guess that's it for now...

On Tense

I've been perusing some blogs the past few days. It shouldn't surprise me what people write about, what people need to get out, what people share, either in trust or vengeance, about people. It's obvious that there's a lot of pain going around. Here I thought I was doing people a favor by keeping my own to myself. There are a lot of blogs about the way guys treat girls (we're all jerks) and how girls would like to be treated (but there are no guys who aren't jerks so it's a moot point), and just general discontent in how people treat people. I've seen a few that were encouraging, a few that were inspiring, but as a whole I'm pretty discouraged. If it were just me, I'd get over it, but it seems too infrequent that one love might make it in a world so stacked against any love's success.

It's far too common to say we have all loved and lost. I feel like I do it every day. If I left it at that, I'd be more of a wreck than I often am. There are a lot of people out there with broken hearts believing in love at first sight. I do. I have to believe that when I open my eyes I will do everything in my power to walk in love, to eat in love, to be in love, reside in love, to live in love until I close my eyes at night. I fail. Every day there is either something I feel I could have should have would have done, or shouldn't have done, but all I can do is pray that I will learn from that mistake so I won't do it again tomorrow.

A lot of people don't know what they believe in when they talk about love. For many, it's subjective, malleable, shifting like tectonic plates, destined for disaster. It helps to have an idea to build on. I've penned embellishments, but my working definition is 1st Corinthians 13. I don't think you'll find a better description. Note that it's written in the present tense, and that "love never fails".

So how did we come up with "loved" anyway? When did this past tense become so pervaisive? Every depiction of love is characterized by a choice. Choices are made every day. Today I chose to love somebody to the best of my ability in spite of the circumstances that restrict those choices. I could keep it at that, and say tomorrow that I loved someone today, or I could do the same thing tomorrow, and the next day, and every day I'm given the grace to live until a choice is made to reciprocate that same love, or the seed falls onto something other than receptive soil. Some would say that such is already the case. Every friend I have, many whose council I trust, have encouraged me to move on. The problem I have with that is this past tense, "loved", that I see as the most painful habit in the world today.

On Unity

So, a friend and I were solving all the world's problems while driving around town trying to find a place to sell us beer when we divined upon one particularly fascinating conundrum about the church. We had already established a particular fallibility within the churches of the world, herein referring to Christian churches, but I'm sure others apply, of dissension on grounds of relatively incomprehensible application. We were in one accord in the revelation that the whole of Christian churches are largely an embarrassment if for no other reason than this: THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO UNITY AMONG THEM!

What's the problem here? How can we be one if two people, supposedly of one accord, argue, bicker and complain about such insignificant things as time of worship, means of worship, dress codes, seating arrangements, theological divinations of no consequence to the eternal destinies of the countless people suffering and dying without knowing the single most important and relevant truth of this existence, namely that they are loved and there is hope if they will accept and believe in the greatest gift given to humanity? And this is coming from a self-proclaimed and recognizably accomplished argumentative individual.

Anyhow, here's the solution, and it's not really new. That's right, we didn't even make this up. It's been around for a while. You've probably heard it before but, like my friend and I, have never quite understood the importance of it's application. Ready? Here it is. That wasn't it. This is it: Love one another. That means practicing some semblance of selflessness. It means your preferences may have to take a back seat to others' once, twice, or indefinitely in some situations. It means that pre- or post-trib, destined, determined, fated or flustered, holy, humble, or soon-to-be-humbled, bible-thumper or belter, prayer-warrior, Jesus freak, or world-inheriting meek, it's high time to get along. Focus on shared love, of God's for you, and yours for God.

"Christian" was once a term that united those set apart for how they loved one another. When will Christians be Christian again?

- TPK

P.S. - Like everything in this temporal universe, this thought is incomplete, so before you denounce me as a heretic or revere me as your own voice, let's talk about it.

Honestly Opaque?

I've been wrestling with this particular blog of late. My goal is to express some level of honesty, however, in so doing I wish to remain at least partially anonymous, not for my sake, but for the sake of the lives of others that will invariably weave with my own professions, confessions, and obsessions.
Chances are, if you're one of the few who've stumbled here as of yet, it's because we lie within a few meager degrees of separation socially, relationally, or otherwise. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that I'll eventually make an ass out of myself, and I'm okay with that. What I admit of myself, I freely admit, but what is revealed of others, by way of my own testimonials, I trust those who know me to exercise adequate discretion; if you know, don't ask, if you don't, don't ask, and either way, please don't post or tell names I'm intentionally changing, or inquire as to circumstances intentionally clouded, for privacy's sake.

I'm only writing this preliminary caution because I spent a good portion of my day reading through some old e-mails (I keep almost anything and everything worth keeping that I write) and thought that posting selections from them here might be a good way to start to open up on the level I hope to achieve. So I'll be posting "Selected Correspondence" in the foreseeable future, only my side of it, of course, but if it sounds familiar, it could very well be because you were the recipient of these very words in the past, and I hope you won't mind my sharing them now for my own growth, and perhaps some manner of relative comfort to someone else who may find worth in such distanced discourse. All such posts will be edited for privacy (and contain commentary, like so); we'll see how it goes.

Blogging the Bible: Exodus

I'm sure I'll be editing and amending these entries as the go, and by all means, feel free to share and expound on my meager attempts... especially with the Pentateuch...

Exodus

Exodus tells the story of the Israelites first liberation after their gradual enslavement at the hands of the Egyptians after Joseph’s sojourn. God’s tool of freedom is Moses, a Jewish-born, Egyptian-raised, murdering castaway shepherd with a speech impediment of sorts. He and Aaron confront the Pharaoh with signs and wonders culminating in the ten plagues of Egypt. This book introduces the Passover covenant and the subsequent salvation of the Israelites forty year trek through the wilderness and all of the provisions of God they receive, from Manna to water to guidance, both day and night, and of course, the laws given Moses atop Mt. Sinai. Exodus concludes with the building of the Ark of the Covenant and the erecting of the Tabernacle. The specificity of the requisite workmanship is a characteristic example of the Holy nature of God.

I like the manifestations of God in Exodus, from the burning bush to the pillars of cloud and fire. I like the God's choice of heroes too: feuding brothers, one with a speech impediment and the other eventually succumbing to peer pressure at the foot of Mt. Sinai; such an unlikely pairing leading the Exodus of thousands from captivity almost convinces me that I too am not beyond the use of God. Almost. Luckily there's a lot left to persuade me the rest of the way.

On Passion

It's Passion week. As part of my own personal ritual, though I hate to call it that lest it actually become so, and not remain more the exercise I believe it to be, strengthening my faith and empowering my understanding, rather than deadening it through the accommodation of a practiced routine, nevertheless, I'm gearing up to watch "The Passion of the Christ" on Friday.

I went through it a week or two ago, sort of haphazardly looking for a spark of emotion, just because, and I managed to find one, though I may yet regret it. I thought about it a few days later, my seeming lack of emotion, when a co-worker came into the office complaining that she was sick.
I've had little-to-no interaction with my co-workers. I'm on an off-synced schedule with the majority, working afternoons to nights, whereas it's mostly a morning job. At any rate, this sick young woman comes into the office nigh breaking into tears and I sat staring at a computer screen, listening to my i-pod, thinking what a crock it was that she wanted to go to the hospital for the symptoms she was describing.
I didn't care.
How horrible is that?
I thought about it while she was there, scrounging to go to a doctor, literally analyzing my utter lack of care, not worry, but total indifference, not knowing this person from any stranger I'd pass in the street, or perhaps knowing more, and thereby caring less due to biases and prejudices I've built from insignificant interactions that I found mildly grating.
Am I so petty?
She was back to work and smiling the next day which led me to reinforce my disinterest.

But I was thinking about the Passion: the suffering, the pain, the agony, the torture, and regardless of how you feel about the movie, the cast, Mel Gibson, or any other controversy surrounding that particular depiction, regarding it's veracity, or theological insertions or interpretations, it's one barometer by which to viscerally measure the true meaning of Easter.

It begs another question though: when did the word "passion", regarding the suffering and all the rest listed above, come to mean primarily sexual desire as it is most often used today? For my part, I get it. My own experiences in love have culminated in a lot of pain. Whether or not my "passion" was understood throughout my private ordeal as pain, or love, or forever interchangeable, is something I hope to one day figure out. In the context of the greater human experience does the connection hold? It's seems to me of late, more and more, that it does indeed.

There is no greater love than this.

Christ endured his passion for us, and I include my co-worker, those I hurt, those who've hurt me, my family, my friends, and even yourself. However the story doesn't end there. We are called to do likewise, to take up our cross, follow, lay down our lives, our wealth, our perceived tangible economic security, all things here and now, for the promise of the eternal. And I don't know how to do that steeped in indifference. I can't. In difference is an antonym for the word that encompasses this very idea: compassion. To suffer with, to take the pain of, to desire the alleviation of others' troubles.

The Passion of the Christ can not be separated from Christ's compassion completed, for it was our suffering he took freely upon his undeserving self, and not by sitting with his arm around us, not by offering anonymous thoughts into a void, but by actually doing what had to be done once and for all, declaring as the Word of God incarnate that "It is finished" and breathing the last breath of suffering on behalf of sin any need ever breathe. All we have left to do is declare to those in need what has been done, reconcile circumstances to reality, and not continue to fail miserably as seems to be my practice.

In ways I think I'd prefer to take the sickness; let me vomit on your behalf if it spares me having to talk to you. God help me. This isn't finished.

The Good News.

I've been in communication with a friend of mine who, having described to me the frustration lately of not going to church in a number of months, and being faced with the prospect of returning, has been plagued with the foreknowledge of the impending guilt shame and judgment that awaits her should she return.

This is what I wrote to her:

I can't tell you how much or how often I've had similar thoughts, feelings and fears as those you describe above.
There is one great freeing thing I learned from Africa, and I've been trying to share it with people in some capacity since; it's the piece of the puzzle that we, those who have grown up in the church, struggling all of our lives to meet some standard of behavior, ever-cognizant of the unspoken judgments that abound in the hearts of people, especially in the church, are the first to miss, or overlook, in the constant barrage of sin-conscious theology that we're inundated with for years: I know its something we hear, but it's so little in comparison to everything else that it takes a quietness of the other things, which you can find in bars and clubs when you realize that they satisfy nothing of your needs and you retreat into what you know to find the still small voice that says you are loved, Jesus loves you, you learned to love him, and none of the thoughts or judgments of man mean anything in that perfect truth that is the most clear depiction of grace you will ever know because its easy to see in our darkest hour that we don't deserve the love we were given, but there it is.
I didn't learn this through a lot of prayer, fasting, worship, or any of the other regulatory church activities. I learned this because I was in the midst of running away from everything, at the end of my rope, quite ready to give up, and then this hope was manifest, not through people, and still I often wish I could find that person to help me understand the deeper elements I've yet to delve, but through the simple revelation that this is true; I finally learned the thing I'd heard countless times before, and better yet, I understood: It is finished.
There in no work yet required for our salvation. Sin does not matter. The failings and judgments of other people does not matter. There is nothing in life worthy of our fears except God, and God doesn't deserve it, outside of the awe our love merits. Nothing we do, say or become can separate us from the love of God because Jesus made a bridge, and if you accepted Jesus into your life, you have a way back to the love you need at any time, even in the darkest place, when it seems too late, you can turn around to see the outstretched arms of that loving grace welcoming you back to life.
There's a whole community of professing Christians who are trying their best to live outside of the institutional churches, in hopes of finding the true fellowship of like-minded believers, to live according to the simplicity of the good news that God loves us, Christ died for us, Christ lives in us, so how can we better serve Christ, who accomplishes all that we cannot in our strength do, who has done all that needs to be done to reconcile ourselves to our Creator, loving God, loving one another?
Just be willing to listen and serve. That is all we need to do. Listen. Serve. Love.

PS: Sorry if its not what you expected or wanted in reply... it just sort of came out in typing. It's as much for me as you because I'm still alone and apt to wander in my desire not to be so, but grace has kept me where I am. I'm just trying my best to do the few little things I'm in place to do in service... and in love. So far, my peace is undisturbed.

- TPS

Blogging the Bible: Genesis

This is something I started a while ago, with a professing atheistic friend of mine, but like most attempts at reading The Bible, I came up short. I'm hoping that I can get some ideas out for all 66 books of the Bible within the year (requiring having read them all) because it's the greatest travesty of my life that I have yet to read every word God has made available to me. If I post a book I've read it. It won't be linear, but that's how I started, and probably why I've always failed. I'm reading a NKJV. So, without further ado:

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth."

The book of Genesis tells the story of God from creation through to the Israelites’ relocation to Egypt through the life of Joseph. What stood out to me was the Nature of God in contrast to the Nature of Man. God is depicted throughout Genesis as the source of life, love, wealth, and health, whereas humanity is mostly then, as now, the recipients and consumers of the goodness of God.
My favorite stories and illustrations are the Garden of Eden, depicting the beginning of humanity’s relationship with God and each other, and the stories surrounding the lineage of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph, from the covenant and subsequent sacrifice of Abraham regarding Isaac, to Jacob’s wrestling with God to obtain favor, to Joseph’s God-given favor to surmount innumerable obstacles in a foreign land through dream interpretation and his steadfastness in accordance with God’s will.
The story of Eden introduces the nature of Love through choice. It also reveals the Nature of God in the relationship that existed between God and creation. It clearly depicts the consequences of sin in that relationship and goes on from there to encapsulate the consequences of sin in human relationships. The downward spiral that culminates in the great flood is the unhindered nature of man at work.
The beauty of the covenant God made with Abraham (formerly Abram) is that God took the whole responsibility for its keeping. Thus began God’s romancing of humanity. It’s a love comprised of choice and consequence, wherein we, as God’s creation, often falter, and occasionally rise up to the occasion to wrestle with the almighty and sway the heart of God.
There are some beautiful illustrations of a father's heart. One of my favorites is in the choosing of Rebekah as Isaac's wife. There are some great levels to this simple story where a servant carries out a natural father's dying wish with the help of the heavenly Father.
Other stories of note are the stories of sibling rivalry, from the first fratricide, to the trickery of Jacob, to the jealousy toward Joseph, all dealing with the complex relationships between brothers. If you have a brother, you might understand what I'm talking about. I'm not entirely sure how well they translate to sisters.
As a final note, I found the numerous name changes interesting, if not foreshadowing. They remind me of a beautiful verse in Revelations, but I’ll venture to tie that up in a few years or so.

On the Mechanics of Church.

Perhaps eventually there will be a more linear thematic development to these presently meandering thoughts, but for now, and especially as I'm new to this, I'm simply sharing the thoughts that rouse me to write.

I'm trying to continue going to church while I'm abroad. Have I mentioned yet that I'm abroad? I guess it doesn't much matter since I have yet to mention where I'm from, or where is home, which are not necessarily the same thing, nor am I confident that I could reveal either within any relevant confines of certainty, so suffice it to say I'm living abroad for at least a year and am just recently attending a church where I am.
It's a Pentecostal Church, not that divisions of unity, such as denominations, are anything I'm especially fond of, nonetheless they exists and it is at this particular church where I will probably be going on Sunday afternoons for the reason that it is convenient, and not too far removed in any significant sense from what I'm accustomed to.
There is one problem that I frequently wrestle with in going to church, however, and I am encountering this issue in full force at this particular church.
This church is run with the stalwart efficiency of a well-oiled machine, if you'll pardon the cliche, in that it adheres to a strict schedule, enforces certain preferences regarding seating, and has instituted a class for newcomers wishing to become a greater part of the church community. Some could read this and see much sense in any of these established edifices of order, however they always reek to me of people's efforts to control the things of God, or in others words, religion.
The church in which I grew up so to speak, at least spiritually, seemed to express to me that "religion" was a dirty word. When I first attended this church, meetings had no time-frame, little structure, but maintained a surprising semblance of order within the other elements of chaos, often lasting hours, with frequent distractions, interruptions, every manner of movement, posture and person present in the sanctuary, and it really was a freeing experience to be a part of, but the end result is that I feel pretty spoiled in the freedoms I expect in churches. Freedoms that even the above church began to infringe upon after some years of attendance there, where conformity began to be more highly regarded, where order began to be more stringently enforced, where attendance became restricted to a more homogeneous crowd, and unwittingly or purposefully, an agenda became the priority.
I find myself wondering what the value is of a community that is so guarded and gated as to have each member become nearly indistinguishable from an other. This is an extreme instance, and I cannot in good conscience accuse any congregation of being quite so far gone as that, but there always seems to be a tenuous balance between freedom and control that I don't think really exists in God. Why then does it exists in church?
I feel most comfortable these days thinking of church as a walk through a forest, a climb up a mountain, a day at a beach, or a time in the desert. In any of these places I'd prefer the company of good people, but the reason behind these out of door cathedrals would simply be the freedom from the stifling controls that people always seem to place on God, in worship, through amplification, through messages with rows upon rows of heads nodding in quiet agreement, or in some cases, not so quiet but appropriately truncated affirmations, of bulletins, announcements, classes, meetings, and all the other elements that turn faith into works, as seems to be the end result of almost every endeavor people have to control the things of God.
I'm not saying church is bad. I think church is extremely important. However I think it may be time to re-redefine church. The church is a body (made of larger parts, or smaller cells). The church is a family (comprised of members). The church are the branches of a vine, the church are the holy ones of God, the church is only a building so long as it is made of living stones erected upon the cornerstone of Christ. Being a member of a church, or better yet, the Church is not supposed to stifle our originality but enable us to be the freest we can be as Christ shines through us individually to create a unified image of God corporately. It's like the picture of one thing that is made up of the myriad individual pictures of many things; sometimes they share a theme, sometimes they are just brought together, but it is always with an expressed purpose to make a greater joint image of which each individual is a part, a shade, a contour, a hue, but all essential to the overall greater impression.
We have yet to reach an age of living machines, and so there still exists an innate conflict between the living and the mechanical, and I don't think that a bionic church should be our foremost expression of who we are in community. The mechanic machinations of church would be better grafted onto the tree of life, where it will be tended, pruned, and in turn blossom and bear fruit.

This could just be a pet peeve. This could be something more. I don't feel it's finished, but our respective attention spans probably are.

- TPS

The first of many tangents: On "secular".

Growing up in the church one cannot escape certain dichotomies: Old and New, Life and Death, Faith and Doubt, True and False, Light and Dark, Right and Wrong, and before too long you become accustomed to looking at the world through these bifocal lenses of either or. I don't have a problem with that. I believe that there are objective standards, many of which we can know through study, observation and experience.
There is one popular division however that I do not believe in at all: that is the distinction between "Christian" and "secular". I think that this is probably the most diabolical institutional marketing ploy that the religion of Christianity has come up with. The advent of church bookstores selling "Christian Literature", "Christian Artists", "Christian Clothing", and every other marketable merchandise is the biggest and most obvious blight in most grand-scale evangelical churches today. To label anything "Christian" for the sole purpose of increasing sales is a travesty to faith, and an insult to consumers.
In seeing a bookstore at the back of a sanctuary I'm always reminded of the sole instance of pure righteous anger that Christ enacted against people, throwing the moneychangers out of the temple. The NKJV translation records it this way in Mat. 21:12: "Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves."
I believe wholeheartedly in art. I believe that legitimate art is a true expression and that Christians should be amazing artists given all that there is to express in a relationship with God. However, the distinction between Christian and secular work, be it art or otherwise, has only managed to secure a market for mediocrity and censorship where the greatest works of devotion, expression, and truth should exist, and succeed, by their own right and merits, especially given the subject matter.
I know a lot of people who readily dismiss honest expressions by struggling people because it depicts situations and circumstances of sin, doubt, hatred, death, and every manner of darkness that Christ came to banish in the light of such amazing grace that any counter argument is dissolved in the bending, consuming blaze of enlightening glory, and yet, in so doing they deny the artists the opportunity to communicate, and so hold over them the shading parasol that essentially denies them the love, grace and acceptance of God through Jesus that would set them, or those who subject themselves and relate to such expressions, free.
There is legitimacy, if not truth, in every human experience. You cannot deny the feelings and circumstances of others, especially their suffering, their pain, their doubt, their sin, their loss, their happiness, their lusts they believe to be love, or any other transient impetus of expression, because if you do, you limit their capacity to receive the gift of redemption God is offering to them through Christ as it becomes increasingly difficult to communicate through walls of censorship and judgment labels like "secular" erect.
We are to be in the world, but not of the world. To those cloistered away in homes devoid of Rock n Roll and restricted movies I would caution that sterile environments are, by definition, hostile to life, and Christ came to give us life abundantly, not necessarily through R-rated movies, though if you saw "The Passion of the Christ" you'd know that the life of Christ is hardly family viewing fare, but there is real life in the stories, songs, pictures, and words of the world wary (and often weary) artists out there. They are worth knowing in their due degrees for the lessons that transcend and speak of that which we know without their knowing, and also to be better armed and aware of the ways of humanity, in all measures of depravity, while they can be dissected, understood, and defeated in the comforts of the home and as such, may not become the surprise attacks of the enemy in the unfiltered reality in the world outside your doors.

Just a thought.

- TPS

In the Beginning...

A belief in the existence of a God is assumed here.

God is understood to be the unequivocal standard of intrinsic value. God is good. As a matter of fact, God is all that is good. This does not make God subjective; God is simply the definition of what is good. If God is eternal, eternal is good. If God is true, truth is good. If God is love, love is good.

I don't really want get caught up in trying to define God, or argue God's existence. I want more to talk about people. People who believe, or claim to believe, in God. People I grew up knowing as "the church". To understand "the church" however, one must understand what the church is about, and that assumes a limited understanding of God, who is essentially, by definition, unknowable in any proximal sense of entirely. Yet there is much of God that is knowable and accessible. Most of what is accessible of God is made so through God’s creation, which is, coincidentally, the greatest testament to God's existence. Nothing can come of nothing, so if the assent is made that an entity of eternal being created the finite universe, it follows that the universe was created out of said being. Therefore, God must be present, in part, in God's creation.

God is not a he or a she. God is God. Hence the annoying repetition for the time being. Without getting into gender confusing issues of psychological identities and whatnot, it is fair to say that, biologically speaking, God has no need of gender defining attributes. God did not create the universe as the Greek pantheon, through excessive copulation, rather God created all, everything, using the only eternal substance available: namely God, and specifically, through verifiable communication (verifiable because we exist, not because I can show you any more evidence than is available to you wherever you are right now).

God is definitive, but there are some distinctions to made between who God is and what God does. The attributes of God, or who God is, are the defined characteristics or objective standards that God’s existence sets forth. The actions of God come from God's attributes. Sometimes God's actions (or more accurately God's perceived actions, or inaction) are confused as God’s character and consequently God is then perceived, in humanity’s limited scope, to be fallible, incompetent, absent, or at worst, non-existent in the affairs of God’s universe. However, if the characteristic attributes of God are good, then all that stems from those attributes must also be good, and as such, must certainly exist. These are some strenuous thought aerobics, like performing mind circles, so bear with me.

First the assent is made that God is. God exists. Which sets the foremost standard that by existing God is good. This needs to be known; to be is a good thing, for God, and for God's creation. It is the first principal to acknowledge in order to make the assent to every other principal embodied by God; God is good because God exists, and God exits because God is good. This comes back to the definition of who God is as the definitive standard of creation, the foremost of which is necessarily existence. If God's existence is a problem for you, this is not going to solve that problem. Once that assent is made however, and one can see that God exists as the standard for good, there are a number of questions that arise from the apparent contradictions in existence. The foremost of which is sin. How can sin exist in a universe created by a perfect, omnipotent, omniscient, being that is characteristically perfect by the very means of existing? What is sin? What about the church? I'm already asking way too many questions than your or my attention span will merit in one sitting. So we have at least some direction for the future, should it exist, which would be good, or so I think.

None of this is new. I'm simply warming up the thought process(es) I'll be following for a bit. It's a little rusty to be sure... so I anticipate that I'll be making some retractions and changes as I think along the way. Hopefully I have some time yet to figure at least some of this stuff out... a lot of time. And a lot of help along the way.

- TPS

The Pastor's Son

I am a twenty-something year old with a BA in English therefore, none of what I have to say is supported by any relevant conferred degrees, ordinations or superfluous factoids. This is a wholly subjective endeavor erected on personal experiences, biases, and judgments. Let there be no misunderstanding; this is a work of perspective and is intended to open opportunities for discussion, amusement, and relate problems and queries of any who care to share, but it will undoubtedly arouse anger and indignation in some in varying degrees. It will be perceived as insulting, demeaning, confrontational and offensive. Fortunately, this is not written for your approval; it is written for my, and perhaps others', release. I won’t enjoy writing it as much as some other projects I'm engaging in, for it is assumes a masked vulnerability, accompanied by a pretense of a knowledge that is essentially unverifiable, and as such it is a slippery slope to tread. It will be full of the author, whom you can claim is full of himself if you wish, if that will help you in dismissing this as something that you can ignore, but I believe that in being so, it will contain at least some elements of truth (at least, insofar as experiences can be true). You now have your excuse, right here within the context of this work, to ignore this in its entirety; but feel free to continue in the perceived abomination if you choose, at least you will be confronted with some fodder for thought, maybe. Hopefully. Either way, you are free to choose.

Already you can say to yourself, "Who is this guy? Why would I read what some anonymous individual posts into cyberspace without credibility, without identity, without a reason to believe that anything he writes is true?"

To answer you, I would only say that you're here, reading, and that something must have brought you thus far. I can only write that my intent is to be as real as I can be in my anonymity, and that while I hope some discussion may arise across the divide it creates, that the divide exists for my own insecurities and protection in a medium that is known to have its pitfalls, its predators, and its traps. So if I should write that I am this or that, and you form an image of what you perceive me to be, should prudence disclose realities in images, and sight in shadows, and I am actually something other than that thing, that phantom formed in your fantasy, we may yet safely pass someday in blissful ignorance, there may yet be some awe and some surprise left to the man extending these words, be they a helping hand or clenched fist to you, until a day dawns when all is revealed and the secret is no more than a denial away from truth.

I enjoy writing. I enjoy the places that writing takes me. I'm looking here for a new place, somewhere deep, dark and cool inside to weather storms, retreat in solace, and hold fast against any enemies of belief. It's a new place for me. Should you stop by to visit, I'll try my best to make you feel at home... but home is not my forte; still, you are as welcome here as you can be.

- TPS