The Unworthy Saint

One should not rely on emotion to judge things of a spiritual nature.  Tears flow from many sources – both the religious and irreligious.  It is no significant sign that tears flow, only that the proofs outlined in scripture are present in one’s life.

This weekend JPaul quoted someone – I have no idea who – who essentially said “a man who thinks a lot sabbaths with his hands.”  This is really true.  It’s hard for me to stop creating, stop doodling, stop building when I am “resting.”  I either need to be out (asleep), reading a book, or creating/planning to create something.  Yesterday I sabbathed with Brad.  He did most of the work, but I helped him finish the piping for his french drain in the back yard.  It was a good time.  We talked a lot, spent a good amount of time in the sun, and got some good work done.  Then I helped him keep his kids for a while when his wife went to get her hair did.  It wasn’t how I planned to spend my sabbath day, but it was good.  Really good.  It was nice to run around barefooted all day outside.  After all, Moses had to kick off his sandles in God’s presence, why shouldn’t we do the same?

Mr X was the CEO of the financial business firm X & Son and was often hired to do consulting for major corporations internationally. Once he was walking alone in Asia when a 9 year old girl came and offered her body to him. He glanced up, seeing the girl’s pimp staring at him. He was not tempted by her inquiry but felt compassion for her. He stooped down and ask her in his best Mandarin if she’d like to be freed from the sex trade business and go live in his house in America where she would be well fed, taken care of – she could go to school and learn, etc. She did not know what to say, she could not imagine being free – what is free?  Why would you want to be free?  He stood up and walked away. The next day he returned with a million dollars and gave it to the pimp saying “I’m taking this girl back to the states with me.” The pimp accepted the offering and told him to take the little whore.

Mr X took the young girl back to his hotel room, stripped her. He filled the tub with warm water and lifted her into the tub. He scrubbed her down with a sponge, cleaning the dirt from her face, the blood from her body. He lifted her out and dried her, put her in new, clean pajamas and laid her in bed. She went to sleep almost immediately as he stroked her head and sang her sweet songs.

When she next woke up she was back in America laying in a beautiful bed with silk sheets. There were flowers on the dresser and light poured through the lace curtains into the room. She cracked open the door, then peaked her head out. Her room sat at the top of a grand staircase, the sweetest aroma filled her nose. She started down the staircase and saw a golden brown puppy bounding up the stairs toward her carrying a floppy bunny rabbit in it’s mouth.

She came to a table spread with juices and fruit, pancakes and waffles, muffins, bacon, sausage, pastries of all kinds – anything she could want was there and she certainly ate her fill.

Mr. X came down, and delighted, she ran and threw herself into his arms grateful for rescuing her from her past life of slavery. He had given her freedom – a freedom she could once never imagine.  She could eat, learn, have friends, play, chase butterflies, run, pet the puppy, pick flowers. She was truly free and for the first time in her life, truly happy.

But she soon wandered outside and noticed the neighbor boy standing in his yard. He must’ve been 17 years old. Something inside her still knew her past life and pulled her back.  She went to him and offered to sleep with him. He took her up on her offer – then she went home.

She felt dirty again but she still got to enjoy the perks of living in Mr. X. He had given her freedom beyond comprehension and joy but for some reason she still wanted more. She decided she’d go try to hire herself out. So she would tiptoe downstairs and sneak out the back door to go into town where she would offer herself for money two or three nights a week. Soon she had a business with many regular customers. She was making more money, but for some reason felt dirty doing it.

Periodically someone would walk by and ask if she was lost, ask why she was out so late, ask if she needed help getting home. She would always flee back to the house when they asked, but would sneak out again the next night.

One night a man she was with got drunk at beat her till she was bloody, black and blue. As she limped home she became fearful of the morning.

Soon she began skipping breakfast because she didn’t want Mr X to know she was hurt, for she knew she would have to explain herself.

One night she was beaten so severely she passed out and was dumped in a gutter.

She woke the next day hurting – her body was broken, but she was clean and laying in her bed. Mr X was sitting over her stroking her hair and singing to her. He smiled at her as she looked at him. He opened his mouth at spoke “My child, I have bought your freedom, I have given you access to all joy, I have breathed into your dead body new life, I have taken you from a foreign place, from being an orphan, and have put you in my house and adopted you as my own. I have cleaned you with my own hands and fed you all you could eat. And you began sneaking out at night… you began whoring yourself out once again, returning to the slavery I freed you from. Do you think I did not know? Do you think it did not break my heart? I wept every night, waiting for you to realize what you were doing. I knew you would have to learn your lesson the hard way. And now I beg you, stay here. Learn from the pain of bondage, open your eyes and see the life I am offering. Stay with me as you did the first weeks you were here in my house. Never again whore yourself out. Stay here, live, breath, have life, have all that is good, eat to your fill, be clean, enjoy the good things that I have given you, but do not return to the bondage you were once subject to. You can have all I have to give, all I ask is that you do not return to your old life. My child, cling to all that is good, abhor all that is evil. Stay here with me forever.”

Ryan and Don are both musicians and designers.  Their music venture is Demon Hunter – a band that has not only done very well in the Christian-Core scene, but has also managed to infiltrate the secular hardcore scene.  They are very good at what they do, one of the top Christian bands in their genre and one of the “Top Ten Artists to Watch” in the secular scene.  They are also designers – they own Invisible Creature and have done work for everyone it seems like.  Their CD Artwork is everywhere and they’re been nominated for multiple awards.  They’ve done work for Nordstrom, Kanye West, Foo Fighters, and a whole slew of Christian bands.

I think that’s cool for me to see is that they are the best, or one of the best, in their field, as Christians.  They are being Christ in Culture – it’s inspirational.

I’ve been thinking a bit lately.  This happens most when other things in my life clear up.  This instance of thought is brought to you by the end of school semesters.  My head clears and I feel like throwing up on paper (digital paper as it may be).  Here are a few random thoughts:

Something in connectivism rings true in me.  I think they’re on to something.  I think the way we learn is changing to be how well we recognize pattern, how adept we are at finding information, and how well we can either process, or find tools to process, the information we find.  Here’s a link to a project I was working on.  And here’s the proposal about it that should tell you something of what I was trying to accomplish, though I have yet to finish it.

Tim sent me an article a colleague of his wrote for the New York Times on Digital Intimacy and the fact that we’re all becoming exhibitionists and voyeurs, however it may not be a bad thing (as it may force us into introspection).

I skimmed an article from wired about the new NIN concert production and started drooling.  They’re doing things with art and technology that makes my heart very jealous.

I’ve been thinking about something Tim Keller talks about quite a bit – culture and how the word for culture and cultivate are the same.  He talks about how we’re all essentially farmers – we create something out of some raw materials.  A photographer takes the raw materials of light, object, optics and film and creates something out of it.  They cultivate those things to grow into something greater.  And this is key for a Christian approach to work – we are to create flourishing.  We are to cultivate the raw materials around us to create human flourishing.  This means we create beauty, we impart knowledge and wisdom, we relieve suffering – all as a way to point back to Christ ultimately, but this is a way to be Christ to our neighbors.  Ultimately God created the world in such a way that it promotes human flourishing.  It is God’s work we do when we participate.  When we farm, in some way, we are mimicking God – no matter what field you’re in.  I happen to cultivate young minds and also ideas/technology in my field.  We are all farmers, whether we embrace it as such or not. So the question would be, are you looking at farming as a way of life/love and in what way do you farm? In what way are you cultivating that which will create human flourishing (in the name of Christ)?

Other than a horribly titled blog post that really reminds me of myself and my own titling conventions, Geoff’s post about evolution was interesting and brought up some thoughts.  So here is my response to his post:

One of the things I’ve been thinking about, after listening to Keller, is major in the majors and minor in the minors, but trying not to get the two switched.  His main point was “Do you believe Christ died and rose again?  If you do, everything else is secondary.” (bad paraphrase) Essentially what he was getting at was, if there are errors in scripture, or at least things that seem contrary to what we know, that shouldn’t be what your faith is based on.  Of course we believe the Word is absolute truth and of course we believe God created the world, but even if those things were proven wrong (they won’t), the fact remains that God came as Christ, died and rose again, for our sins, and you still have to do something with that – believe or disbelieve.  Once you’ve figured that out, your other beliefs should line up from there.  But those beliefs are ultimately secondary or tertiary, not primary.

All that to say, the thought that comes to my mind after reading his post, and the thing that I’ve been thinking on lately, is that it’s an interesting topic and certainly something to meditate on, discuss and research – but not something that should decide someone’s faith one way or the other.  Whether or not evolution happened, whether or not God created things to evolve, those are secondary issues to the question of Christ.  Sadly, I have a tendency to put things like that first.

I want the wisdom and knowledge of God.

I think it’s my natural reaction, when I am feeling overhelmed, to try to push away.  Most of the time it’s stuff.  I want to push away from all the junk lining the rooms in my apartment.  Why do I need so much stuff?

I’m falling in love with the concept of a tiny house.  It sort of makes me laugh to think about it.  Maybe I could drive a mini crossover.  I am kind of drawn to the girl who said she saw a sharp spike in her electric bill last month, it doubled from $4 to $8… oh the goodness of being a tiny homeowner.

Sometimes I see artwork. Mostly I see paintings. The difference, I think, is whether they appeal to me or not. There are very few works of art in my world. There are many paintings. Very few works of art. Many songs. Few works. Many films. You get the idea. The Arnolfini portrait is one of the few that I love.

Today has been a good day.  Bare-foot stepping through the dew.  Tossing plastic discs into chained buckets.  I sat on the playground and shivered for the first time in a long while.  The sun peaked out with near blinding beauty.  Mostly calm.  Wonderful.  Today has been a good day.

Murray Gell-Mann: Beauty & Truth in Physics.  Some refer to him as the man who knows everything.  You could say the Mann knows everything – or maybe just something about beauty and science.  Is it any wonder that God created the universe?  With all the beauty in math, who can deny?  Plenty sadly.  Plenty sad.

There are a number of things that stir my affections.  These are two – Math and the chill of morning.  Today has been a good day.  And it’s only 8:30 in the morning.