CYOA: Ephesians 1 - Sealed

11In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, 12so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. 13In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, 14who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.

I have read over Ephesians one a number of times in order to make some sort of useful or interesting comment. Furthermore, this was not my first time reading it. And yet I am uninspired and feel I have little to no valuable words to present. It is interesting how context and present experience influence our interest or reaction to a text. There might have been some days when I would have tackled the issue of predestination... but today I am tired and bored. There might have been some days when I would explore the theology of the trinity and how through Jesus we are able to participate in the divine... but today I am tired and bored. I considered exploring the nature of the church as Christ's body...but I am tired and bored. I find myself asking, "Doesn't Paul sound just a bit pretensions launching into this lofty introduction/sermon?" How would you feel if people wrote you letters like this? It seems both incredibly formal and annoyingly obsessed with clarifying every statement while at the same time still leaving the reader mostly confused as to what he is actually saying. It is really quite spectacular.

The one comment I wanted to make was regarding the notion of being sealed. The royal seal both in ancient times and medieval was a symbol of authority, authorization and personal approval. This idea of being sealed, is interesting. There is something final about it. Perhaps you remember in Esther when the kings order could not be revoked. Primarily letters, edicts, messages, orders and the like are sealed. I like thinking about it like this because I think it suggest that we, our very lives, have become the King's message... a message made final and official and authenticated by the Holy Spirit.

It also made me think of the small cylinder seals I saw at the Israel museum and how the issue seals (not the animal) is prominent in Revelation.

Oh if only I were actually Insane.

I recently watched the new BBC Sherlock, and also Showcase's Californication. Without reserve I would recommend Sherlock. With serious content disclaimers (sex and drugs) I would also recommend Californication. What the shows have in common are seriously dysfunctional protagonists. However, in the midst of there dysfunction, choices seem clear and simple, even if life isn't, they find success even amidst their own disaster, and they seem content with the mixture of love and hatred with which they are surrounded.

I binge watched these shows over the weekend as I am currently attempting to stress out less, trust my own process a bit more and not allow other people's processes to place unnecessary guilt or expectations on me. So I didn't do much homework and enjoyed Netflix. Can I live with myself doing things the way I do things? Can Amy live with me doing things the way I do things? Can I live with what you think of me procrastinating and watching TV instead of finishing assignments early?

The stress and thrill of deadlines left until the last minute, there are few things more exhilarating...

I find it very easy to get stuck inside my own head of games and perceptions. My own stress and anxiety over success and also the perception of success, and also the perception of diligence and effort. I found myself wondering this weekend if perhaps stressing out regarding papers and assignments before they are due when others have started and I have not is perhaps ineffective. I sometimes try and goad myself into starting or working by stressing and guilting myself into it. However, what if I trusted that I can effectively evaluate the natural stress of the situation and will start the assignment with enough time to finish, even if just barely. And that perhaps more effective preparation is rest and relaxation of all kinds (mental, emotional, physical) so that when my brain finally clicks into the clarity of last minute deadline magic I have the energy to make the magic happen.

Is our reverence of the dysfunctional genius, creating more dysfunction as we are unable to separate madness and genius and find ourselves celebrating and fascinated by both, leading us down a path of imitation... I find myself amusingly jealous with what I occasionally perceive as the simplicity of thought and life that mental illness can afford people. We often make very large allowances for those with diagnosed dysfunction. And the individual may or may not be aware or care about social nuance or the perception of others. I often find both my ability and compulsion to "fake" my self or my thoughts for the sake of perceptions and social fluidity annoying. Sometimes I wish I was an assh*le. If you already think that I am, I guess you caught me on a good day. Its not that I want to descend into uncensored brashness or hedonism, it is that I desire my altruism to be authentic and I would like to interact with people with greater confidence and freedom.

If you want to know how I could recommend Californication ask me. Also if you have CYOA requests let us know we are running low. Maybe we could start on some Christmas passages... What are your favourites?

Words and Work

This week as I pondered my existence while driving from a physiotherapy appointment to work, I thought about the power of words. No this is not referring to the child rhymes “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me”. I rather thought of how words frame our existence and understanding. They create as well as limit the imagination. They define and explain our realities. In so doing, they have immense power over us.

As I drove, I thought specifically about the words we use to describe employment. The phrase that came into my mind was “I’m so thankful I have been given a job”. The phrase is manipulative and a lie. A job is basically the selling of one’s time and existence for money. I state this in the crassest way I can. Really, the basic job, the selling of oneself for money, is not dissimilar to prostitution of one’s self.

This comes to a head for me when I am told a job is a gift, then in the same breath I hear that gift is the selling of myself. I think such words limit my options, limit my existence, and limit who I am at the very core. So what then shall I say? How can I communicate the action of employment in a better way? How can I be more honest to myself and not segregate my life into little boxes? I think of the Occupy Wall Street protester’s slogan “I quit my job and found an occupation”.

Is it possible to live a holistic life where work does not become a segregated piece, the prostitution of self?

Reflecting on this I think back to one professor’s list of confused priorities. He stated that in our world we all too often worship our work, work at our play, and play at our worship. Maybe beyond being confused all of these categories are a façade that captures our imagination, a façade we are then not able to think out side of. The categories of work, worship, and play seem too ridged. What would it look like to refuse these words their power and imagine economics differently?

I pondered this question for many hours this past summer as I swept concrete dust and carried lumber around a hole, as well as commuting three and a half hours a day to be permitted to do so. I was selling large amounts of time to make a buck, but I really had no other options. I worked as a manual labourer with a bunch of people who knew their existences to be the prostitution of self. When I found out these same people had no moral qualms about the hiring of sex slaves on the weekends it was surprising but not incomprehensible, because their own existence was very similar as they prostituted their physical strength to make money.

What drove these people to live like this? How were they so trapped in a system that they saw no way out? As I listened and observed, I realized they were there for different reasons. Some of them were there out of obligation. They were court ordered to pay child support and they needed a job that would pay enough to do so. Others were there out of necessity, much like me, this was the means to enable life. Still others were there motivated my greed, it was a place where those at the top were driven solely by self-interest and greed. All of these, obligation, necessity, greed, I determined were not worthy motivators.

As I worked as a manual labourer, I followed in my Pake’s (grandfather’s) footsteps. As an immigrant after WWII he attempted farming in Canada. After a few bad years, he, like many others, made his way to the city where he found work on a construction site. For the rest of his life he worked concrete construction as a manual labourer. Now that I was doing the same thing, I wondered what motivated him all those years. I know from stories he never loved the work but did what was necessary. Was he motivated by obligation? Is that really all that pushed him through his entire life, obligation to his family? I hope it was something more. Though I cannot ask him, I would hedge a bet, that if asked what his motivator was, he would have answered, love. Love for his daughters and wife, a sacrificial love given so that his daughters might have a better future. A future that would enable them to live more holistic lives.

How many more times do we need to be trapped by words? How long will we permit our imagination to be limited by the vernacular of a system that promotes segregation of life? I know in my family one generation has already offered sacrificial love to enable a more holistic future. If I continue to life with such segmentation, without challenging the words and ideas that oppress, I spit on the love my Pake displayed? Or for you, do you spit on the love Jesus already displayed, a love that broke barriers, dismantling the segmentation of life?

CYOA: Psalm 138 - Rewritten

It is not that I particularly feel like praise. I am actually rather stressed, overwhelmed and a little depressed. However, I was intrigued and inspired by the process poet Sarah Fordham shared at Regent this week for rewriting the psalms into our own words. First each chunk of the psalm is turned into a question then each question is responded to. Here is my rewriting of Psalm 138:

I will work and think hard in school
and also love deeply in my relationships
in response to your grace
in the face of isolating ambition
I will attend church
even when I don't want to
even though it has stained your name
trusting in your grace


May you reveal your love 
in the hearts of my friends
in the hearts of those in need
May they find rest and comfort in you


Though the Lord is often hidden 
My life is sustained
He is gracious to the hurt
and patient with the earnest 
but the oppressive will not find him gentle


Though I am broken
You grant me perseverance
Yahweh will make sense of my life;
your love, LORD, endures forever-
Do not forsake the works of your hand

These are the questions I used while also reflecting on Psalm 138:

What will you do for God?
What has God done for you?
What do you desire for God?
What is surprising about God?
What has God done for you?
What does God do?
What will God do for you?

I am sure that you could use different questions. I would love to see other personal versions of Psalm 138.

CYOA: Psalm 138 – Increased Strength of Soul or Increased Weariness?

1 I give you thanks, O LORD, with my whole heart; before the gods I sing your praise; 2I bow down toward your holy temple and give thanks to your name for your steadfast love and your faithfulness, for you have exalted above all things your name and your word. 3On the day I called, you answered me; my strength of soul you increased.

4 All the kings of the earth shall give you thanks, O LORD, 
for they have heard the words of your mouth,
5and they shall sing of the ways of the LORD,
 for great is the glory of the LORD. 
6 For though the LORD is high, he regards the lowly,
but the haughty he knows from afar.

7 Though I walk in the midst of trouble,
you preserve my life;
you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me.
8The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me;
your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.

I called my mom the other day to tell her how my new job was going. I told her that it was better than any job I could have dreamed of and that I had never expected myself to be in such a position at my age. She asked me if I had prayed for it. I hadn’t, so I told her that it must have been due to her prayers. Then she went on to try and convince me as to why prayer really works.

I read this passage reluctantly today because reading the Bible is not something that I’ve been keen on lately. Sure enough, the psalm was as bright and hopeful as my cheery disposition *sarcastic tone*.

I tried to imagine what might have moved David to such intentional praise and thanksgiving. Was it spiritual oppression of other gods? Was bowing down to the temple prohibited? Had David just received an answer to prayer? Was he delivered from a fiery situation? Or was he just writing a song for the hymnal? Had his strength of soul already been increased or was he praising in expectation? Was this a quiet prayer or a vibrant exclamation of jubilee?

For a season in my life I kept up the practice of offering praise and thanks to God every time it crossed my mind. It became second nature for me to pray about everything and anything. Even when I found myself in discouraging situations I found great comfort in reading scripture and singing worship songs. While I was in Africa, reading and praying evolved into a crying out for help and salvation. I cried for myself and for others. There was no response. I grew weary. Jealousy rose in me when I read David’s words “On the day I called, you answered me; my strength of soul you increased.” Since Africa, I have not felt much like praising or giving thanks. It is no longer second nature. Rather than a source of strength, I find thanks and praise cause me great weariness.

For those whose soul he does strengthen when thanks and praise are offered, Amen.

CYOA: Psalm 139 - Waking Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed

This weeks CYOA is Psalm 139.
You have searched me, LORD,
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, LORD, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
19 If only you, God, would slay the wicked!
Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
20 They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, LORD,
and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
22 I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
I am not feeling it. To be honest for a few days now I have not been feeling it. It is not truth for me today or yesterday for that matter. By the end of yesterday, my answer to “How are you?” was “I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” That is not to say anything horrible happened, but on the flip side, it seemed like nothing good happened either. I went through the monotony of my life with no passion. Lethargy, apathetic, depressed, hopeless, frustrated, and generally down, would be my description of the last few days. Days like this suck.

Now I sit here reading Psalm 139 and it could not be further from my experience. As I read this psalm, the refrain that keeps revolving in my mind is “wow I am not experiencing that”. I do not perceive God knowing all my thoughts. I am not experiencing a presence that I desire to flee or hide. I do not desire God to slay the wicked. I cannot relate to the sentiment of this text at all. It seems distant, removed, and elusive. My experience and the experience recorded are vastly different and I am unsure how to bridge that gap.

In days gone by, I have had people challenge my pessimism and reliance on my own experience through statements such as “experience does not equate to truth” or “you need to focus on the truth (in some abstract way) and then it will become your reality”. At this moment, that way of thinking seems unappealing and almost humorous in its absurdity. It seems incongruous because I cannot escape my reality or emotion without becoming more Gnostic or Stoic than I think Christianity is meant to be. So I am left here sitting in dissonance. The text I desire to make authoritative in my life is saying one thing, and I am here occupying space and time in a seemingly parallel and unrelated reality. Somehow I need to bridge that gap, but for now I am left wallowing in cognitive dissonance. I have been growing more familiar with this space of late.

Maybe, however, this is the proper place to be. If theology and philosophy have always been processes through which humanity has interpret the world and our (humanity’s and my own) experience, then I am currently in the best possible place to be to rethink, experience, and reframe the world in a new way. Maybe this is the place I ought to crave if I want to imagine the world differently.

Halloween

I read an article called "Is the Reformation really over?" - Evangelicals and Catholics Together (ECT). This was a series of conferences which worked to create dialogue between the two groups, to establish common ground and also learn from differences. The outrage over the first conference and subsequently published document was such that people resigned, people removed their signature and a public debate was held within evangelical circles. Of the two sides: those opposed entered the discussion with demand/desire/expectation that those who had participated would fully recant. All I could think about when I read that was of the various reformers hauled before church courts and authorities and demanded to recant. I was bemused to discover that "we" have become the oppressive establishment ready to place those who do not fall within our lines or boxes on trial and to "excommunicate" those we disagree with (a la John Piper to Rob Bell via twitter). Something has gone terribly wrong...

On this day Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses to Wittenburg. The Reformation fractured the church into a thousand pieces which we hope that God will pick up... Out of the reformation came the unchallengable priority of right belief. Our communities are defined by confessions. Is a confession the best way to define Christian community? In contrast the Catholic and Orthodox churches would define community through participation in the sacraments and liturgy... I think I like this idea better because what we believe changes so much during our lifetime and I don't want to switch communities every time I am uncertain about a piece of the confession.