Quote:

"The Christian vocation is to be in prayer, in the Spirit, at the place where the world is in pain, and as we embrace that vocation, we discover it to be the way of following Christ, shaped according to his messianic vocation to the cross, with arms outstretched, holding on simultaneously to the pain of the world and to the love of God." -NT Wright

Borrowed Books and Double Standards

I was on the phone with my brother when he told me that he lost the book I lent him. I was a tad perturbed since it was one of my favorite books, so I gave him a bit of a ribbing. As I did so, I scanned my own book shelf for any signs of borrowed books. Lo and behold there's one, and another, another, and still another. When all was said and done, I found a dozen books that didn't belong to me, a couple of which I had borrowed more than 10 years ago! I resolved at the moment to begin the process of repentance. What does repentance involve? Well, I'm convinced it's not just a matter of "being sorry". When John the Baptist told folks to repent, he gave them ideas about what that meant in their lives -- e.g. Roman soldier, stop extorting; tax collector, stop taking more money than you should, etc. But now "the voice of one crying in the wilderness" is calling out my name and my sin! "Prometheus, give back those books you borrowed." This coupled with the words of the Lord that would soon follow the camel skin prophet, "Get that plank out of your own eye, then you can see the speck in your brother's" (paraphrase). Well here I am faced with my own hypocrisy, out on a mission to return all of the borrowed books and move away from my double standard. By the way, anyone know someone who might be missing a book titled, "The Birds of Prey".

The Saturated Host

As I waited in line to partake of the elements during Eucharist, I decided to opt for intinction (the practice of partly dipping the consecrated bread, or host, into the consecrated wine) since I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to chance spreading my illness. Things did not go quite as planned. The wine was low, so I had to dip deeply into the chalice. In the process, somehow I dropped the host into the wine. Both the chalice bearer and myself stood staring at the floating wafer for what seemed to me a long time. Many theological ruminations made their way into my mind in those moments. But technical terms such as "accidents" and "real presence" quickly gave way to more practical considerations, namely: "How do I get that wafer out of the wine?" I considered drinking deeply from the cup in an effort to gulp down the host in the process - kind of like you do when you're going for one of those tiny marshmallows in a cup of hot chocolate. But in a split second I figured just as the marshmallow often eludes me, the same would be true of the wafer. And there I would be in front of the Lord's table and the rest of the church gulping down the wine like an overindulgent Corinthian...a glut, a lush, drinking condemnation on my own head. Fortunately, our chalice bearer, having more wits than I, deftly reached into the cup and retrieved the saturated host. I walked back to my seat grinning broadly, I think with a bit more color in my cheeks.

Days like these

When destinations are uncertain there's a thick fog that hangs over my head. I get fidgety searching for something to grab hold of, some future goal to shoot for or a vision to embrace. It can get obssessive at times. I remember about a year before grad school I began the college catalog rampage. In a matter of months I had looked at them all. I knew all of the degree programs out there, and yet I was still surfing the web in a desperate attempt to find new ones. Something about the college catalog is very appealing to me in the midst of uncertainty. I find myself saying, I could always go into archaelalogy. Yeah, I'll check out all the degree programs that have anything to do with that. Perhaps it's the excitement of charting a new course that I like about looking at college catalogs. But there's something unhealthy there, I know. Because now that some future goals are uncertain (or delayed at best), I find myself in a state of unrest without the comforting mechanism of the catalog to obsess about. It's the INFP in me, I know.

The Rant Post

After rereading my "No Regrets?" post, I decided that it was a rant. I'm not apologizing for that, simply calling them as I see them. In fact, we all need to rant sometime or another. So, I've decided to incorporate a rant segment in my blog. Whenever you see the word "Rant" followed by a colon, you can expect something that may look like it came from an editorial page in the newspaper.

Rant: No regrets?

I find myself increasingly contemptuous of those who say they have no regrets. The line typically goes something like this. Yeah, I’ve made mistakes, but I learn from them. I don’t have any regrets. My question is: what did those mistakes entail? Doubtless, you hurt someone while making these mistakes. Why wouldn’t you regret an action that caused pain in someone else’s life? I’ve come to believe that this attitude represents a rather prevalent societal paradigm geared toward an egocentric individualism which refuses to acknowledge the sin present in self and the ramifications of said sin in the lives of others. In short, there is no moral reckoning with a person who lives under this banner. This “no regrets” notion coupled with the "I did it my way" mantra represents the worst that modernity has had to offer. And it’s fruit? A generation of self-centered, individualistic, over consuming, under nourished, arrogant, ignorant, morally bankrupt nerdowells with an entitlement mentality the size of New Orleans.

Water stations

After two hours and five minutes, the race was over. The 13.1 miles was behind me, and I felt an incredible sense of accomplishment coupled with an amazing amount of weariness. Along the way, there were several times that I just wanted to stop running. My body seemed to be sending signals to my brain that it was done, and during those times the idea of quitting was very attractive. But I pushed through, in part at least because I kept thinking about what was ahead – not necessarily the finish line, but the water station coming up in another half mile or so. If I can just make it there, I thought, then I’ll be refreshed again and perhaps I can run a bit longer. I had to set my sights close at hand because the finish line was just too daunting. By way of these short term goals and refreshment and the cheering of onlookers along the way, I managed to make it to the end.

Perhaps there’s a lesson here when we find ourselves running out of steam in the race of life or school or work or whatever else. Yes, envisioning the finish line can help aid our endeavor in a nebulous kind of way, but I think a cup of water close at hand may be a bit more instrumental in keeping us from quitting. So look for the water station ahead, but don’t forget to be one too. There are others out there running their own races who could use some cheering and refreshment.