Journey for Sale

The Color Purple

2010-04-03T09:19:00.000-07:00

One recent morning after dropping my daughter off at the sitter's, I came across a familiar sight during my drive. As I tried my best to stay near the speed limit, the pavement flowed slow enough for me to notice roadkill. But this wasn't like some poor kitty kat or a squirrel or even a sparrow. What I saw was a big ol' possum (technically, it's "opossum" but local vernacular allows me the relief of skipping syllables) stretched out and clearly deceased. I couldn't help but think if the driver who did the deed had a few seconds to decide if he were going to drive over the animal or try to dodge it. Possums are odd liking things and they have a creepy gait to them. Watching one is like being pulled into a vision created by Tim Burton. You just have to know what you're in for if you decide to look. I imagine that this driver looked, felt no sympathy, and decided this grotesque creature had just walked out to its final destination.

How do most people respond to the grotesque? I wouldn't even say "grotesque". What about things or persons that we might consider less attractive? Do we find it easier to discard, disregard, dismiss, deny them, or in some cases, even destroy them? Something in us wants all things to be attractive. To not upset our enjoyment of the world. But what does that say about how we conceive of the Creator of all things?

I was forced to think about my own attitude in this area when I attended a reception for senior artists at UNC-Charlotte. My friend, Bridgit had a fascinating display that, in my words, "normalized the odd". When I shared this thought with her, she said that some of her art is an attempt to challenge popular definitions of beauty. She is not content with the limiting everyday aesthetics of the status quo. I would say "amen" to that especially if we confess that our world was made by the God of glory.

Possums are not mistakes. They must have been puzzling to Adam and Noah just as they are to us, but that gives us no excuse to exclude what God has made and declared good. If we are not free to ostracize possums, then how much more are we not at liberty to disrespect human beings that we may deem "out of place"?

You're too dark. You're too light. You smell funny. You don't get our jokes. Your hair is too fuzzy. You can't dance. You must be hard up for a date. You sound "ig-nant". Etc. Etc. Sometimes we can't control who ends up in our space, but we can determine how that person will be received. We can embrace them as the Father embraces us. We can turn our me-centered cliques into an odd place for others. Maybe we'll be surprised by a greater beauty than we are able to behold for ourselves.

The Bourgeois Diet

2008-09-05T06:45:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, when I grow up I'm gonna have chicken biscuits and lattes before school." Don't hear too many children saying that, do you? I think there was an inner child within me that leaped with glee this morning as I stopped at both Chick-fil-A and Starbucks before going in to work. I felt so grown up.

I was up since 6 AM and successfully navigated I-85 traffic, dropped my wife off at work, and endured a line at DMV all before 9 AM. I did some grown-up things during grown-up hours. So as I listened to the sanctified jazz tunes of the Six-Thirty Band (from Redeemer Presbyterian in NYC) in my car, I decided to treat myself to a taste of middle class. A "boojzie" breakfast, if you will.

I felt so middle-class as I walked into Starbucks to order a pumpkin spice latte. My eyes fell to a space below the register where there were Nina Simone and various Canadian musicians' albums for sale. How un-kiddy this place is! There I stood among grown-ups from their 20s up to even their 70s, being bathed in popular smooth tunes, early conversations, and the smell of mature coffee beans. This ain't the Tiger-Mart, y'all.

And Chick-fil-a with its successful marketing to middle-class families! Even with a playground in the back, their stores are set apart from Mickey D's and the BK by at least 10 years. How did they do that? How did they get people within the broad spectrum of middle-class values to eat the same stuff? How did Starbucks and Chick-fil-a become associated with being middle class? Of course, the question that kept burning in my mind was, "Why am I drawn to this?"

Somehow maturity has become linked to social class. In other words, there does not seem to be a great sense of ownership and of "running things" if you are still in the lower income bracket. Sure, you have responsibilities, but you still haven't "arrived" (or so we are told). But if you can afford chicken with your biscuit at a restaurant that wears its vision on its sleeve and purchase an international dark beverage while identifying melodies from Brazil, then you must be one of those people "running things". These places cater to the highly educated, plain and simple. They cater to people who are conscientious about where they eat or who have an acute self-awareness to the point that they think about what others think about where they choose to dine -- even for breakfast.

There's some distortion at work here. I'm not necessarily saying any of this is bad. Wanting to grow up is a good thing.* I just think it's interesting how what we eat can say something about our sense of achievement. When you're all grown up, you can hang with the big boys for $4.00 a cup. But moving up the ladder may not be the same thing as maturing.

* Shameless plug: Catch the new "Grow Up" sermon series at Christ Central Church starting this Sunday in the Neighborhood Theatre.

Your Daddy is a Jerk

2008-08-20T10:16:00.000-07:00

There has been an ongoing conversation about the lack of males within the Christian church. I'm currently listening to a talk at Laus Deo radio called "Where Are All the Brothers?". The pastor featured on the program wrote a short book with the same title.

I have wondered if one of the reasons (and this is a complex issue) why there is either real or perceived lack of male presence or tangible masculinity in the church is because of shame-based sanctification. Here's what I mean: how many young men have been shamed by their caregivers to grow up and "be a man"? How many boys have only had shameful behaviors exhibited by the few older men in their lives? How many times have they heard "don't be like him" whoever 'him' is? Take a young man who has made it one of his goals not to live ashamed before his mother, grandmother, etc. and then put him in a church where they are taught to walk not by the Spirit of grace but by the fear of shame and what do you think will happen? The burden is too heavy. "Wow! Jesus is gonna nag at me too? I can feel like a loser by my d$*n self. I ain't going to no place filled with a thousand mamas with an emasculated man in the pulpit."

Don't get me wrong. Men do need to mature. They are called to mature out of obedience to the Lord. But I think there's another way forward besides shaming the crap out of young men who may already be doubting their ability to be good husbands and fathers. There's a profound difference between walking with Christ in weakness and feeling like a punk everytime you hear His name. Only one of these brings the dignity that men long for.

Thoughts?

Moment

2008-07-01T08:24:00.000-07:00

As I sat underneath the shade of a tree this morning and watched the balance of grays and yellows bob around the black and white ink opened on my lap, I became thankful. Thankful that I had the capacity to recognize beauty when it's staring me in the face. Thankful that I could feel a cool breeze in an unhurried space for at least moment. There are two things that I associate with summer and that's heat and stuffiness. You would think that with the absence of official school activities that the summer would be less jammed, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Weddings. Construction. Road trips. Applications. Fundraising. The summer is just so hot and cramped. Yet is there time for God?

My little poetic moment this morning happened while I was reading Eugene Peterson's Eat This Book. For anyone struggling with the why and how of reading the Scriptures (like me), I recommend this one. I came across a good quote about contemplation that I think is worth thinking about. It's from Kathleen Norris (as if you know who that is - at least I didn't) who believes the true mystics are ...

... those who manage to find God in a life filled with noise, the demands of other people and relentless daily duties that can consume the self. They may be young parents juggling child-rearing and making a living... if they are wise, they treasure the rare moments of solitude and silence that come their way, and use them not to escape, to distract themselves with television and the like. Instead, they listen for a sign of God's presence and they open their hearts toward prayer.

It's so tempting and easy for me to ignore God. To only seek Him out when I want something done or fixed. I've found the biggest obstacles to seeking God fall somewhere in the areas of shame or idolatry. I'm either completely focused on something or someone else that I think will "get me through" the day (of course, I never really ask about where I'm going) or I'm overcome with too much shame to even approach God. I'm thankful for the breeze, for others who struggle (like Norris), and the word of the prophets (see Isaiah 61:10, 11) that grab me gently by the scruff and bring life-giving conviction. Convicted to remember that there is not one moment in which I am not living before the presence of God. Convicted to remember that by grace I am known by the true and living God and I actually have the capacity (and duty) to reflect and know the beauty of Christ in the midst of a crowded life. Even if only for a moment.

Let's Talk

2008-06-18T08:08:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why I feel the need to put this stuff out on the web, but it sort of feels like a celebratory thing.

Here's my current reading list (gosh, I'm such a nerd):

Eat This Book, Eugene Peterson
- Has been wonderful in reminding me that reading the Scriptures means slowing down, listening, and being ready to use your feet. Walk it out!

The Divine Conspiracy, Dallas Willard
- I've only read twenty pages so far and I'm already questioning how I live my life. I'm also willing to help Willard build a deck if he'll teach me how to kick like he does. Wax on, wax off.

Apologetics to the Glory of God, John M. Frame
- A required text for the class I'm taking in, you guessed it, apologetics. This is Christian worldview stuff on steroids. Scholarship that actually helps you hope again. Nobody knows anything without Christ? I mean, whoa!

The Decline of African-American Theology, Thabiti Anyabwile
- Reading this one as a favor to a good friend. Has been hard to read because, well, just look at the title. I'm well-acquainted with the decline, but don't quite agree with all that the title implies. This book also makes me feel very conflicted about where I am vocationally. Here's the question: How much do you actually care about the Black Church or the discipleship of Black people in America?

:: ::

What would you get if you put Jill Scott, Lauryn Hill, Bob Marley, Ben Harper, and Dave Matthews in one bowl with the Indelible Grace music? For those of you who know what I'm talking about, give me your thoughts. I'm thinking through music styles for an eclectic RUF community that I hope to start at UNC-Charlotte in Fall 2009 (psst - we need funds to do this).

Expand

2008-06-13T16:01:00.000-07:00

When I begin to feel stressed out, I tend to remember the happy places where I used to dwell. One particular memory relates to a time I sat outside the Guggenheim Museum back home praying for an opportunity to talk about Jesus. My heart was racing with excitement because I was reading through Edith Schaeffer's Christianity is Jewish at the time. I thought to myself, "How awesome would it be if I got into a dialogue with a non-Christian Jew about the Messiah of his people and mine right here in front of this incredible museum." Alas, my only conversation was with a man who enlightened me on the history of Irish Spaniards. That was kind of fun actually. I miss my city, my people. I miss the desire to be "out there" discovering the world, learning from others, and waiting to introduce the King.

Camp Songs for the Restless

2008-04-28T10:14:00.000-07:00

While most people think about the road less traveled, I think about the road that’s sick of my footsteps. As I was driving in to work this morning, there flowed within me a sudden urge to tour the countryside of North Carolina. I had no particular sites in mind; I honestly just did not want to go to my job. I had nothing to look forward to, so the call of “the journey” started to sound real good. Can’t you hear it now? A little bit of Doobie Brothers. A little bit of String Cheese Incident. A little Norah Jones. It’s your own personal Forrest Gump soundtrack to get you going nowhere. Hey, it’s all about the journey, right?

I remember Jenny from Forrest Gump who was this kind of restless soul. She was always on the journey. Every time she bumped into Forrest she was always asked, “Why can’t you just go home?” Wow! That’s the question, isn’t it? Why can’t you just go home? Home for Jenny meant pain and hopelessness. It meant abuse and degradation. Now I’m not trying to compare my job to a home with an alcoholic for a father, but whenever your destination seems really unpleasant jumping on “the journey wagon” starts to look real good.

The hope of the Christian life is more like a pilgrimage than it is a journey. Jesus said to his disciples, “You know where I am going and I am coming back for you.” I have met many Christians who feel like their life is more of a journey than it is a pilgrimage. Their life is not the way of Abraham or the million who walked through the Red Sea with Moses. Honestly, any Christian who’s lived long enough will experience this at some point. You begin to lose sight of the destination. You begin to forget Jesus is bringing you somewhere and that He has not left you as an orphan. All of your destinations become exclusively earth-bound with no hint of redemption. Hard jobs. Hard kids. Hard singlehood. Hard marriage. Next thing you know you’re looking to pack your bags and grab your old mixed CDs from college.

Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” Did you hear that? The Christian life is a journey filled with thorns and thistles, but it is also a pilgrimage to the Father who is our certain destination. The journey, the way is Christ Himself. He who is well acquainted with thorns calls us to walk with Him. He shares in our sufferings. But it is not without meaning because the Way will also lead us home. Wherever Christ is, there is always a little taste of home. Soon we will sit in His living room and worship by the fire of His glory.

Screwtape Letter #1

2008-03-11T02:42:00.000-07:00

Real life is boring because it's dangerous.
You can get it wrong plenty of times and you'll have to suffer consequences.
You never quite know if the risk is worth it because you don't know what the end will be.
In this life, there are few guarantees and most of them are distressing.

Enjoying life?

What is that?

Maybe moments here and there will give you enough courage to take a small risk.
But it's impossible to live life without the inevitability of getting hurt.
You must keep your head down until death finds you.
You must stay low-key and avoid all arguments, looks of disappointment and shame, and words that hurt until you hear God say, "well done".

Avoid it.

Avoid life.

Suffer as little as possible.

For what does a man really gain when he takes the risk of living?

No guarantees. Just maybes.

Maybes aren't good enough to heal your wounds.

Paradox

2007-08-01T10:15:00.000-07:00

So I did it. I purchased my first Dave Matthews Band item through their website. OK, don't tell my friends and family back in the Bronx, but the purchase is also a pre-order. Man, I haven't pre-ordered anything since Super Mario Bros. 2 for the Super Nintendo. You'd think I would have gone crazy over Rihanna, Jay-Z, or even Robin Thicke, but not a Virginian jam band for goodness sake. What's happening to me?

I feel like I've become a part of some club that's not necessarily exclusive, but tends to live underground. When a good Dave Matthews groove is going I feel like doing random things. Like getting in the car and just driving around with no particular destination. Or I want to pick up a guitar and strum along even though my fingers don't know the difference between E-sharp and a E-sharp chord. It's the kind of music that reminds you the world is so much bigger than you thought and a lot of what you're missing is right where you are. Seems like most times "the best of what's around" is right under your nose. Dave comes along with his droopy eyes and laid-back demeanor and says, "Hey, buddy. There's a whole world just outside your door. Go out there and learn how to love it. Thanks so very much." Right on, Dave.

The Horizon, Part 2

2007-03-23T12:49:00.000-07:00

Lord, I remember You.
When you led me in the way everlasting.
When I had no one to give me instruction
There you were with book in hand.
You put the pages before me under the pleasant heat of Spring.
Under the flowers that remind me that light lives still.

My eyes were filled with wonder.
What new teaching!
What new insight does my Lord give to me?
How I longed to hear fresh words from you
Like a man desires speech from his new love
Like a child waits for mother to wake the house.

I remember You, Lord.
But what will our future be?
Where do we go from here?
All I see are the first things to warm my weary heart
The treasures of Ebenezer* for a kingdom yet unknown
But You remember us, Father, and You know the way home.

* 1 Samuel 7

The Horizon, Part 1

2007-01-29T12:37:00.000-08:00

To that great morning
I now progress

As each moon passes
O'er waves of distress

May God grant me mercy
For my failing heart

Soon I'll know in truth
What I only behold in part

Redeemed with No Exit

2007-01-03T00:11:00.000-08:00

It's hard for middle-class Christians to think about moving into a lower-income community especially if they were born and raised within one. Most Americans are socialized to treat college as the heavenly Jerusalem. They go through hell and high water for most of their natural lives to reach the golden gates of Gimme Mine University. This is confusing for a Christian who feels Story B in their life is to follow Jesus and care for the poor while Story A is to escape the trailer park (reservation or ghetto) and all its despair and mediocrity. Not only do they have conflicting narratives but they must live between being useless and being used.

The college-educated Christian now has skills and interests that may not fit into the old context from which they came. They feel more at home in the big city because of who they've become. If they moved back into the old context, they might feel useless. Not many there would appreciate their new interest in Degas, Debussy, and Derrida. Their new ideas and methods might be mocked. That which they have sought (i.e. college education, "a new lease on life") has alienated them from the people which they once knew. Who wants to live somewhere where you feel you are being wasted? To do that would be to re-enter the despair everyone wants to escape.

On the other hand, the middle-class Christian could easily be used in their new context. In the places, where even water is cosmopolitan and eclectic, people are often commodities. Big cities need human resources to keep the machine going. The new strengths and interests of the middle-class Christian will be attractive there because personal uniqueness is a commodity needed to sell products, satisfy consumers, and accumulate capital. Congratulations, Ms. Enlightened and Global-Minded, you've just spent twenty years of your life to become a dollar bill!

Either place you go, you're still invisible. Hey, at least you're safe among the middle-class, right? At least you can go to the symphony and drink lattes. At least your children will have a better chance of going to a good school... so they can grow up to be well-off and invisible too.

Maybe it's time for a new story...

Lament

2006-12-23T20:03:00.000-08:00

I don't know if I've ever said these words before, but here it goes: "I am no longer a Baptist." When you leave home, some things will never be the same. Ever.

Raunchy & Blessed

2006-10-07T16:14:00.000-07:00

This morning I listened to a lecture by C.J. Mahaney of Sovereign Grace Ministries. He was speaking to Christian husbands on the enigmatic book called Song of Songs (or Song of Solomon). Mahaney reminded me of one interesting fact about this First Testament book. It is one of a thousand songs that the wise King Solomon wrote for God's people. So a question was born in my mind: "Why is this song the only Solomonic lyric found in Scripture? And why is it the "songest" of songs?

I have not done any research over this question and probably will not in the near future. However, I had a few reflections that, if true, could only magnify the glory of our Wonderful Creator. Check it. Out of all the songs that the wisest king ever wrote for his people, the only one classified as inspired (and therefore authoritative for God's people today) is about sexual intimacy between a husband and a wife. This must be something pretty high on God's list which is shocking to a culture exposed to Puritan ideals. I think Solomon wrote this song to tell his people how much God desires marital sex and romance in every family. We might think that the ole king should have listened to his own song since he made Casanova and Wilt Chamberlain look like "Kid -N- NO Play". But as with the other wisdom literature ascribed to him, it was probably written in his later years. Which, I think, means this: Solomon knew what he was writing about because he had spent so many years deprived of real intimacy. Not only that, but Solomon was the son of Bathsheba, a woman whose previous husband was murdered by Solomon's own father in order to cover up a sexual scandal. And that was only the beginning of Solomon's troubled childhood.

The story of King Solomon is similar to many. Some of us have grown up with very distorted views of intimacy between a male and a female. We rarely, if ever, saw Daddy enjoying Mommy. Caring for her body, caressing her hair, and taking her out to eat and talk. As a result, we have made some tragic decisions in our own relationships. Sadly, this is true for women as well as men and is becoming increasingly so.

The Song of Songs reads like a lyric written by an old man reflecting on that "one good thing" he used to have. It's a celebration of a much needed light in this dark world. The glory of God's blessing on a marriage. The glory of God's creation of masculinity and femininity. It's a stark contrast to what we see between Adam and Eve after the Fall. But it's also a hopeful reminder that our Lord Jesus is indeed making all things new.

Unwritten

2006-09-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I look at my blog and I have no idea what to write. Then I look at the title and wonder what name I could use that would help me gather cool points from throughout the galaxy. How twisted the self is sometimes!

There's a theory that those who blog are choosing a particular expression of their desire to be known and to know others. I may have to agree, but there are times when my soul wants to go beyond being known to actually being exalted. I want praise, dangit, and lots of all. How pitiful.

In any case, I have decided to change the title of this blog yet again. It seemed a bit egotistical to suggest that this blog could be a source of encouragement to those who feel the exile of our humanity. The old saints used to say, "I wouldn't take nothing for my journey." That is such a posture of humility and gratitude of which I have yet to attain. Rather, I feel more honest in saying that I probably would sell my life's story for one thing: to not die anonymous and insignificant.

Lord, hear our prayer.

(Shout out to Natasha Bedingfield. Sometimes pop does have something to say.)

Grow Up, Grandpa!

2006-08-28T10:32:00.000-07:00

Anthony Bradley, a writer for World Magazine and a friend of my pastor, posted an interesting thought on men and the church. He quoted David Murrow who said, "Men don't follow programs; they follow men." Bradley wonders about the lack of male mentoring in the American church.

Here's my two cents:

David Brooks (author, Bobos in Paradise) talked about how one of the great weaknesses of our Bohemian-Bourgeois culture is cowardice. So even the men of our new upper class are afraid to lead with conviction. I think the movie, Finding Forrester may offer one possibility in restoring male leaders. The younger ones, who thirst for role models, may have to take initiative. They may have to be courageous and ask more than "a soup question". They may have to, respectfully, get in an older man's face and say, "You have a story, too. Your journey is valuable. Teach me. Speak up and tell me about God's faithfulness." I know it's hard for us younger ones to have to do that.

In an ideal world, older men would be men and not wait for the younger to say, "I need you." In an ideal world, Adam would have been there for Cain and Abel. But we live in a world that's fallen. Sometimes we have to suck it up and trust that God is redeeming all this stuff. Sometimes it's like a bureaucracy where you have to jump through fifty hoops before somebody will talk to you, but we must persist and insist. And maybe in the end we'll gain a reluctant friend.

Commercial Break

2006-08-21T10:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, while I'm sitting through a three-hour lecture watching my fingernails grow, I wonder why us ministers-to-be have to pay attention to so much theological detail. Superior knowledge does not a superior pastor make, but tell that to the Jehovah's Witnesses that came by my house this past Saturday.

Honestly, I felt really upset after their visit. Not because they disturbed my quality time with midday shows on VH1, but because they had the nerve to vehemently seek the "conversion" of this Trinitarian Christian. I was also upset because for a few hours I wondered, "Is belief in the divinity of Christ and the Holy Spirit necessary for fellowship with the true Body of Christ?" That wonder, that entertainment of the actual question made me feel embarassed. What would my professors and colleagues think if they heard me ask such a question? I have found much resolve to these things, but I don't like to spoon-feed.

So here's a question for this post: Is "non-Trinitarian Christian" an oxymoron? Would you consider Nestorian, Arian, etc. congregations (i.e. Coptic Orthodox) in the kingdom as long as they obey Jesus and look to Him for their righteousness? How would you respond to someone who insists you must denounce Jesus not as Lord but as God?

Jacko for Mayor

2006-08-01T10:04:00.000-07:00

What's so attractive about Charleston? Well, I'm not so much captured by all of Chucktown as I am by the beauty of the peninsula. From I-26 to East Battery, there is a wonderful blend of the historic and the emerging from the architecture & design to the shops and eateries. A taste of both tourist and insular culture makes downtown Charleston a sight for sore eyes. During this last trip with my in-laws, I was forced to take off the rose-coloured glasses once again.

The condition of public education in that three-sided community suggests someone is not looking far enough ahead or behind. In the Charleston City Paper, a District 20 resident said "downtown should be a place where people want to not only visit but to live. And that requires quality public education." This is the great irony of Charleston (and most attractive cities): the presence of old cannons, Gullah culture, and homes that breathe French aristocracy tell me that someone cared about this city and wanted to preserve it for the next generation. The things that make Charleston so romantic to us were built and maintained by hard work and a sense of ownership.

Who will own Charleston for the next generation? Posterity seems to be a cuss word for us Bobo (bourgeois-bohemian) folks. Say what you want about Michael Jackson, but there used to be a time when our generation held his hand and asked, "what about the children?" If we're not careful, gentrification may do more than rip us away from our less-fortunate neighbors.

(While writing this post, I listened to "Don't Drink the Water" by Dave Matthews Band.)

Deaf Jams

2006-06-28T10:48:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been having "fun" with migraines. My wife has been the best friend I've ever had. She's been prescribing nap time and shorter work hours for me. You know, she's been reminding me that the world is not sustained by my activity.

About two weeks ago, we went to Atlanta for an African-American convocation within the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). Basically, a bunch of Black folks got together to worship God and talk about how faithful He's been to them in a denomination that does not have a long history of loving their people. At first, I was shocked because I was not used to hearing a youth gospel choir in a PCA church. Traditional Black worship and Presbyterians doesn't seem like a natural mix. The shock wore off after about thirty minutes, 'cause I got "caught up in the Holy Ghost" myself.

All in all I learned that weekend that I am a part of something much bigger than myself. God was giving a picture of the reconciliation that is to come right in front of my eyes. It has always been a part of His plan that He would have a people for Himself made up of all kinds of tribes, tongues, and nations. The Lord of nations is at work, indeed.

So why can't I remember that when anxiety sets in?

Last night, a wise woman told me that maybe migraines are God's way of telling us we need to slow down. I guess sometimes it takes a little pressure behind your ears before you can hear the Lord. "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening (1 Samuel 3:9,10)."

(Shout out to Russell Simmons and LL Cool J! ONE!)

Spilled Milk

2006-05-24T14:53:00.000-07:00

Longing can easily make you restless. I guess it depends on what you long for. But what really gives satisfaction? Even if all you long for is a good night's rest, you'll eventually have to get up again. So maybe the cycle of waking and sleeping should be what you desire. If there is a destination you dream about, then maybe you should learn to love the journey. For as long as you live, you will eventually have to leave that place or experience and start over again.

I think there still might be a problem though. Who really longs for something that always changes, that always brings something new? Where is the sense of permanency and stability? Even Odysseus longed for home and yet modern readers love to rehearse his adventures. How can we live dynamic, localized lives? I wonder if it's even possible to live a life of contentment in the midst of continual change.

Milk spoiled
TV series ended (bye, Sydney)
movie premiered (no more Frodo)
loves lost.

We must walk on. We're almost there. Home is worth the journey.

I Am Sydney Bristow

2006-04-19T13:56:00.000-07:00

As far as my wife and I are concerned, tonight is one of the biggest nights in network television. For those of you who are not into all things espionage (or Ben Affleck's love life), Jennifer Garner has returned for the final season of ALIAS. I am still convinced that Vaughn is not really dead. As a matter of fact, I saw him buying Arbor Mist at the Wilkinson Wal-Mart (shout out to West Charlotte - hold it down!) I'm so excited about this show that I passed up a chance to hear Toni Morrison talk about the woman who inspired Beloved. OK, I'm not that crazy about ALIAS, I just can't afford to leave home tonight because my workload is pretty demanding.

Some friends have asked me why I have not posted anything in a while. There are two reasons, really. First, I have been a little intimidated by other people's blogs. Some of them are so erudite and interesting that I feel this pressure to be blog-smart. I also have not blogged because my mind is full of facts on Tolkien, Greek syntax, and dates from Christian history. To tell you the truth, I may start posting some really random stuff that may or may not be true.

Crack kills.

Laura's Request

2006-03-02T09:10:00.000-08:00

Four Jobs I've had...
1) Teacher at the Bronx Zoo
2) Seller at a video store (pre-Blockbuster)
3) Human Resources assistant
4) Summer camp counselor

Four Movies I can watch OVER & OVER
1) Finding Forrester
2) The Mummy (and the Mummy Returns)
3) Friday
4) Office Space

Four Places I've lived:
1) The Bronx, NY
2) Dallas, TX
3) Charlotte, NC
4) Yo Mama's Basement

Four Shows I love:
1) Lost
2) Desperate Housewives
3) Inside The Actor's Studio (Bravo)
4) Book of Daniel

Four Places I've vacationed:
1) San Diego, CA
2) Panama City, FL
3) Houston, TX
4) Harrisburg, PA

Four of My Fave Dishes:
1) Grandaddy's Roast beef (yes, suh!)
2) Anything Cherise cooks (Lawd, have mercy!)
3) Mom's Meatloaf with all the sides (that's what's up!)
4) Grandma's Sausage with Cheese Grits (dang, fool!)

Four sites I visit daily:
1) Hotmail
2) WFAE Radio
3) Google
4) Live 365 Radio

Four Places I'd rather be right now:
1) Smoke Jazz Club (and evangelizing the Upper West Side)
2) Central Park
3) Taking guitar lessons
4) Backpacking through Europe with my wife

Good Grief

2006-02-22T15:32:00.000-08:00

Thank you to all those who prayed for Cherise in the loss of her grandmother.

One of the most vivid miracles recorded in Scripture is that of the resurrection of Lazarus (John 11). Book freaks like me who love trivia often remember this story because it has the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept.” Some well-meaning people have felt this event (the weeping of God the Son) to be rather embarrassing. God is holy Other, after all, and there’s no way He could have wet ones rolling down His cheek. Their general position is that Jesus contemplated the effects of death on His creatures, His heart was touched, and He chose to cry for the sake of those around Him. Although this view recognizes that God loves His creation there is still an element missing. In a word, it is called “personhood”. According to the Scriptures, Jesus did not weep in a detached way, as some would imagine. The relatives and friends of Lazarus, after witnessing the Lord cry, said, “See how He loved [Lazarus]!”

I’m going to make a jump here, but you can follow the dots on your own. Think about this: why are our passions so easily stirred for “those poor people out there”, but we barely shed a tear for our aging parent? Death is all around us calmly breathing on our necks. And all we can do is numb ourselves, distance ourselves, leading to more depersonalization. One thing is clear about the tears of Christ. They tell us that we cannot even be human without God. Jesus is a much better human being than I ever could be. Will you and I listen to Him? For some of us, our next lesson may be in grieving.

Forever Young

2006-01-09T14:34:00.000-08:00

Many people want Christ, but there are few who want change.

Compulsion

2005-12-31T11:41:00.000-08:00

Within the past two weeks, Cherise and I have been guests in Charleston and Atlanta. Right now, I'm popping hypertension pills in Georgia while listening to a UK, 50s-throwback band called The Strokes. Their music makes you want to dance or go buy a performance fleece at Old Navy - two things we've been known to do on a whim.

I want to be deep at this point, but I'm distracted by the wisdom of Tracy Chapman and that whole wheat bagel I devoured. So I'll just say this: the hospitality of the Church is a wonderful thing. My wife and I have shared abundantly in the hearts and homes of others during these past two weeks. Arriving at the steps of other people with empty hands is a humbling experience. Often we have struggled with anger and sadness because we had nothing to give back to those who treated us like family and surrendered the little they had for our benefit.

Precious Savior still our refuge...

Dark Meat

2005-12-07T09:22:00.000-08:00

This past Saturday I was bitten on the hand by a great dane.

I have asked a friend to "take care of it". Hopefully I won't lose any friends over this one. Mature people should be able to move on after their pet is assassinated.

Oh well, there goes my hopes of being a hand model.

Losing Your Faith

2005-11-27T16:27:00.000-08:00

One of my worst nightmares as a child involved my feet getting heavy as I walked behind my mother. As it became harder for me to keep up with her, I would begin to cry out: "Ma! Ma!". She never heard me and she kept going. In this dream, I couldn't make myself run because my feet were too heavy and my heart broke as I stood watching the ever-increasing distance between myself and my only protector.

Have you ever felt Jesus slipping away from you? I know I have. Whether you've been following the Lord for 5 months or 15 years, you're bound to experience what St. John of the Cross called "the dark night of the soul". It's an experience where the Christian feels lost, abandoned, even condemned. It is the danger of falling away from the faith. How do you recover? Here's something I came across something in my studies.

Hudson Taylor worked for many years serving the people of China in the name of Christ. In one fateful month of government lies, racism, and greed, Taylor almost witnessed the destruction of his labors and relationships with the Chinese. Then something worse happened ... Taylor fell behind:

"'I hated myself; I hated my sin; and yet I gained no strength against it.' The more he sought to attain spirituality, the less satifaction he found: 'Every day, almost every hour, the consciousness of failure and sin oppressed me.' He was at the point of a mental collapse when he was, by his own account, rescued by a friend. Aware of Taylor's problem, the friend, in a letter, shared his own secret to spiritual living: To let my loving Savior work in me His will.... Abiding, not striving or struggling.... Not a striving to have faith, or to increase our faith but a looking at the faithful one seems all we need.' With that letter Taylor's life was changed: 'God has made me a new man.'"

from J.C. Pollock's Hudson Taylor and Maria: Pioneers in China

Although He leads many, the Good Shepherd will always search for the one. Praise Jesus!

Bad Bobcat

2005-11-10T19:14:00.000-08:00

So last night, I invited some friends to catch a Bobcats game with me. This was going to be a great way for me to start bonding with some brothers from my church.

We arrived at the spanking new arena after paying ten whole bucks for parking. The atmosphere was charged with tons of urbanites waiting to see Okafor take on Tim Duncan.

Tim Duncan? Wait a minute! We have tickets to see the Pacers not the Spurs. What's the problem? The security lady politely told us that we have tickets for NEXT Wednesday.

I have no idea why I didn't see the dates on the tickets, but my "blindness" set us up for a night of old peanuts at a nearby bar that was more than half empty. I guess everyone in Charlotte was at the game. If any of my friends who were there happen to be reading this post - I'm sorry.

Saint Augustine was Blue

2005-10-31T00:02:00.001-08:00

Within the last two weeks, there's been some discussion sturred by my seminary professors about the possible skin color or racial identity of Saint Augustine. It was said that he was not a Black African, but a Berber (yet African nonetheless). Furthermore, it was said that if Saint Augustine were in America today, he would be considered White.

My pastor preached an awesome message this Sunday (go to http://www.christcentralchurch.com) about how God uses diversity to keep us from making our own righteousness according to our race, culture, or values. Personally, this Augustine issue is not about gaining one point for the Black Team. It's bigger than that.

When God changes a man, a family, or a entire nation, should we not expect to see the evidence? When I hear about men like Martin Luther and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. And when I hear about the German pietist movement and the Franciscan monks. I say to myself, "Praise God! The Lord was at work in Europe and the whole church will benefit from those works of the Spirit. Here are marks of a people who had been redeemed." But then at some point, I have to ask myself if God ever did anything in Africa or among African-Americans. Is there any hope for my people, any source of joy or encouragement? Will God ever be glorified among a people who have darker hues of skin color?

If Martin Luther King, Jr. means so much to conservative and liberals alike in this nation? If he was considered a godly man and one called to be a pastor, then why haven't I read ONE sermon of his in all my five years of professional biblical training? Do you see? It's not about Black pride, it's about Christ-centered hope for the disenfranchised and about giving praise to God for enduring work among all nations.

Happy All-Saints Day!

Waiting for Guffman or Godot?

2005-10-28T10:55:00.000-07:00

I'm one of those people who loves to check his mailbox. After a hard day's work, there's this short period of anticipation. My heart rate rises a little as my feet touch the stairs of the front porch. I don't want to run toward the mailbox and look desperate, so I ask my loving wife to retrieve the mail as my spirit bites its fingernails off.

Oddly enough, the same sensation happens whenever I type in the address for this blog. In the movie, Shadowlands, C.S. Lewis quotes a line he received from one of his students: "WE READ TO KNOW WE ARE NOT ALONE." I believe that I check all my "dropboxes" - Hotmail, my blog, my mailbox, my church, my community group, etc. - to know that I am not alone.

It really is nice to be known. When I receive a check in the mail or a personal note, I feel like somebody out there remembers that I exist. How often I forget that the blessings I experience day in and day out means that God sees me and knows my needs and my dreams. And yet I still grind my teeth when I haven't received a phone call in over five hours.

The lie comes: Nobody really wants to know me or my wife. Bastard people!

Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself. Lord, have mercy.

The Hope of Rimbaldi

2005-10-16T23:47:00.000-07:00

Sunday night can be such a heavy evening. One looks ahead and sees only the trials and challenges she has known from all the previous weeks.

I don't know about you, but one of the highlights of our week is to watch ALIAS. Cherise and I noticed that there hasn't been much talk of Rimbaldi or the prophecy ever since the destruction of the Rimbaldi device at the end of Season Four.

We look forward to the mystery, and are disappointed that it has been dropped..

.. or has it?

Is Vaughn (a.k.a. Andre) really gone for good?
Will Sydney give birth to the seed of Rimbaldi?
Ooh-ah-ah! [insert your own evil laugh]

At different times and in different ways, Cherise and I also look forward to what the Spirit of Jesus will do during the week. What will He birth through our mundane activities? This morning, Pastor Giorgio preached about the only Hope for our broken lives - the Messiah who creates, sustains, and rescues us. I am glad there is one prophecy we can count on. (And spy-dramas are nice too.)

God is Life

2005-10-07T10:45:00.000-07:00

The Lord is beautiful.

Who loves as well as He?
He gives grace to the humble
And mercy in the time of need.

Where would I be
Without the Lord?
Could I begin to know myself
Without His words?

I am ashamed of my fear.
My fear of waking up and
Proving my uselessness.
I wish for things too lofty to attain,
Foolishly believing that greatness
Will validate me.

O that I would love Jesus!
He is my hope and my peace.
He is the life of those who call on Him
From generation to generation.

Faithful is the God of Abraham!
The Rock of Israel! Hallelujah!

The Average Leader

2005-09-29T13:17:00.000-07:00

I am not excellent and neither have I attained excellence.

It is a hard thing to look at myself and realize that I am just as mediocre as the next guy. Can I possibly be a leader in God's church when I find it almost impossible to hand in all my homework assignments on time? I mean, seminary is supposed to be the training ground for pastors. It's supposed to set the tone for your future practice. How a student performs in seminary should be an indication of how he'll perform as a pastor. Right? I'm taking five classes plus preparing lessons for my job, so if I have to preach more than four times a week as a pastor I'M SCREWED.

Maybe there is no such thing as the excellent leader. I'm falling behind in just about all of my classes and I feel guilt and stupidity crawling all over my soul. How could Jesus possibly use a guy, who'll probably make mostly B's and C's throughout his training, to nurture His people in the gospel?

Need God's grace. Maybe that's the primary directive for the average leader.

There's a Thin Line

2005-09-09T21:16:00.000-07:00

All is well in the land of aorist tense and Ridderbos (That's Biblical Greek and New Testament Studies for the non-geeks). I'm learning the finer points of thinking under God's activity in history and of being a stranger in a poor community. For those of you who don't know, Cherise and I were able to buy our first home in one of Charlotte's transitional neighborhoods. Here I am also re-learning that the body of Christ is called to be mission-minded. However, it wasn't in Charlotte where I received my latest lesson on loving my neighbor.

This past weekend, my wife and I were cut to the heart in New York. In the midst of celebrating my brother-in-law's wedding, we were reminded that many of our family and friends either need to embrace the gospel or need to receive consistent spiritual nurture. We don't know what this means for us!

I have loved New York for many years and those years have also caused some pain. There will be many challenges for our hearts if we ever go back. My wife loves her family, and so she agonizes over the unbelief of some (she's not a big fan of the cold weather either). I can count my immediate family on one hand; however, hard times in the past have affected how close we are to each other. So there is much restoration and redemption, in the hope of Christ, to be realized in those relationships. There are other issues as well.

Should we move back to over-priced apartment living in New York after we've discovered the pleasure of sweet, Southern home-owning? I do not know, but I'm thinking we might be a bit behind the game on building equity in Times Square. I do know that following Christ in this death-dealing world necessitates many sufferings. He said it would be this way and He commands us to go. By the Spirit and through your prayers, we will be faithful where we are. Where we are going, only Our Father knows ... and we know He is love.

P.S. If you are interested, here are my current "fun" readings:

To Live in Peace, Mark Gornik
The Communist Manifesto, Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels
Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

Go to http://www.amazon.com