Reading CS Lewis, Flossing and Blogging...

The great philosopher of our age, Mitch Hedberg once commented that his smoker of a friend told him that he didn't understand how hard it was to quit smoking. "Yes I do," said Hedberg defiantly, "it's as hard as it is to start flossing."

To me, reading is my flossing. To be specific, reading heady books by Christian authors in Mensa is my flossing. And actually, flossing is also my flossing, because its true that its difficult to begin doing and continue to do with the regularity needed for it take effect. In this analogy, flossing and reading CS Lewis are connected because they are things that I know I should do. Things that benefit me, improve my quality of life, keep my mind sharp (or teeth strong), and that ultimately I know will prevent laziness and the consequences of not doing such.

I have literally started "The Abolition of Man" no less than 4 times. And every time I read 2 pages at the most before thinking, "What in the name of Narnia does this mean?!" and then losing my place, re-reading the same sentence 4 times and then moving on without much of an understanding of what he is trying to prove. I really have no idea how people have picked out such profound quotes from his works because I always get lost and end up glazing over all the good stuff.

To extend Mitch's parallel of flossing/smoking, I normally start feeling very confident that my life will be better after reading 3 hours prior to when I plan to do so. But slowly, as the time I have blocked off approaches, I start to get jumpy and nervous. I look for other things to do. I think, "One game on the PS3, then I'll do it," only to become too tired to put in the effort. Now that I think of it, its the same feeling I have prior to making phone calls about support. It's nerve-racking and awkward, and guilt-inducing all at the same time. It's easy to think of strong gingivitis-free gums and a sharpened, worshipful heart hours prior, but then the moment comes and all that fills my head is how much it hurts, how no one else is doing it either and how I can get by with just brushing, watching the History Channel, or texting supporters.

And now that I think of it, blogging is the same way for me. So this is good. I started out just ranting about CS Lewis and his overly British, stream-of-consciousness writing style in certain works and am ending up vowing to at least blog more, even if it means it'll be shorter. Starting today. I can practically feel my gums getting nervous now.

Transition Offense

In my quest to relate everything into a sports metaphor, I've decided to return to my main M.O. and ponder some thoughts about some things I'm learning here at X-Track, our training out west that lasts most of this month and deals largely with transitioning to an overseas lifestyle, etc.

Most of our mornings are pretty packed, which is unfortunate now, because since most of us are more "international" than the rest of America and therefore find a lot of enjoyment watching the World Cup. Even if soccer isn't that interesting to us normally, the World Cup has brought large groups together just simply out of the fascination of what the enormous hornet horns are, the unison-jumping supporters of each country, and just how cultural differences can both be seen on the field and in the stands (also, in the local medias, as Slovene newspapers are ludicrously adamant that the US's third goal was actually a foul...) seem so different than our own.

Unfortunately, morning classes keep us from most of the games since that's when they are shown on TV here, but it does make you wonder about transitioning in what is now a "global community."

On one hand, you can make the case that cross-cultural stress and transitioning pain is almost non-existant these days. We grew up in diverse schools, often have ethnic friends, and many of us have already been overseas more times during college than some of our parents will in their entire lifetimes. Add to the fact that we have Vonage, Skype, email, twitter, facebook, and cheaper travel options for family and friends and you might be led to believe that going to Estonia today is like going to Texas 20 years ago (bad example, Texas is also a foreign country).

But there is something deeper going on that moves beyond technological advances and our teenaged environments that still makes a transition like moving overseas difficult.

As I watched a soccer match recently, I noticed that the British announcers would use different verbiage than their American counterparts who are used to commentating on other sports. Soccer analysis includes players "having conviction," (playing hard) "using good pace," (instead of "running fast"), "dribbling with ambition," (shooting, trying to score), and my favorite, "that keeper's all 6's and 7's!" (made that last one up, but hoping it will be said during one of these games).

But one commonality between Jeff van Gundy and Martin Tyler as they announce their respective matches is the importance of "transition offense and defense." The concept that you must succeed when the ball is turned over. You must keep the opponent from scoring on you after it appeared you had the advantage and you must also successfully score when given the advantage.

During another soccer match I saw, analysists noted that an entire team was built upon the idea of "counterattacking." It's counter intuitive really. Your whole team, even your goal scorers are reliant upon the opportunity of a turnover. You run the risk of stalling completely if the game flow is normal and there arent many transition opportunities.

The UNC basketball team has actually been built like this the last couple years where if we weren't able to get out in transition, we probably wouldn't be scoring a whole lot and might even lose. Ty Lawson went down and were were screwed.

Basically my whole point is that its a transitional time in life for me and my friends here. Where we live, who were are close to in proximity, what we eat, the language we speak, and the friends we make will all be new. God often disperses his people in the Bible. Which is why there are more Jewish people in New York than in Jerusalem today. In Jeremiah he tells the people not to put all their efforts into reclaiming their original homes in Israel after the Diaspora(s), but instead to lay down roots, build homes, start families, plant fields in foreign lands.

If I were one of the Israelites, it would be easy to see why this would be frustrating. Being an agrarian society, people were more tied to the land back then. You had more family farms for generations, and they were always inherited by sons and daughters. Really these people had their whole lives changed and that is always a difficult thing.

But the harder to notice side of this, and one that I doubt Israel understood and believed was that there was also opportunity in this transition. Opportunity to grow, to investigate their own sin, to grow closer to God, and to ultimately be a "light to the Nations" by actually residing IN the Nations.

Now clearly, both sides are not equal. One is more comfortable than the other. But you also have to wonder how the Jewish people profited from that 1st generation who left their hometowns and put down roots in Assyria and Persia. Would they have been moved to repentance otherwise? Would their children know God? Would they be lazier or overly content with the status quo?

Prayer Illuminated

As some of you may know, I recently arrived in Fort Collins, Colorado for training before I leave for Asia. Yes, I'll have about a month between the time I return from Colorado to the time I get on a plane for the Far East. But even after two days here, I'm realizing that these weeks in the Rockies may be the most restful time I'll have in the next year.

This morning all of us here at "X-Track" (the name of our training conference...also the most hardcore sounding name that could be thought of), went on a prayer journey. I know many Christians have been run through one of these in the past. Like a lineman high-stepping through tires at two-a-days or a freshly-enlisted recruit at basic training, we are spiritually run through different stations intended to focus our hearts on the right things and purge ourselves of the wrong things.

Love Jesus, don't love the world. Listen to praise music, don't listen to secular music. Confess your sin, don't keep it hidden. That type of thing. Often times I must admit, I more or less go through the motions, bowing my head at the right times, praying for a portion of the time, before I get distracted by whatever is consuming my thoughts that week. Things like this also normally have several stations that include reading passages several times over and and over, artistic expressions of worship and clever anecdotes of life, sin, forgiveness, redemption, etc.

If you can sense the pessimism in my tone it's because it's normally very present when I try to spend extended time in prayer. I think today was pretty good though.

One of the stations today I thought was particularly helpful. It was something about being washed of sin, made clean before God and realizing His desire to do both of these things for us. There was a bucket of water and a towel on the table with some passages to read through. Because there was something in one of the passages about being a fragrant offering to the LORD, someone had put some sort of fragrant mixture in the water that made it smell like red Kool-Aid, which I thought smelled great.

Unfortunately when I looked down at my hands before immersing them in the basin, I realized how poorly they looked. I bite my nails constantly and have done so since I was a teenager, so they were all uneven, jagged in some places. The palms were cracked as a result of the changes in weather and elevation. Plus, throw in the fact that I had just noticed the pen I was using to journal had exploded and I had unwittingly been smearing ink on my fingers. It was a Crescent State Bank pen, in case you were wondering and were worried about the same thing happening to you.

Anyways, I did as the instructions told me, dipped both hands in the water, rubbed them together a little and then dried them off. Not surprisingly, my fingernails were the same bitten down ones as before, and almost none of the ink had come off.

I certainly didn't look clean. If I was 5 or 6 years old, I wouldn't be allowed to eat dinner like that. But somehow, beyond the ugly appearances, I did feel a new sensation of cleanliness when I dried my hands and rubbed them together. They had been cleansed, even though I knew that it might take a day or two at least for my nails to grow back to a decent length and for the ink to disappear. I could eat fried chicken with hands. I could wash dishes with them. They were once again useful in a way that wouldn't spread an excess of germs.

I think often my life is the opposite. I worry about what I am displaying to people around me rather than if my heart is clean, my motives pure. I am very good at being presentable, but rarely am in a position where people around me see me in a mess, when actually I am clean and pure before God. But its a refreshing feeling.

Jesus explains this situation through the example of a cup that is dirty on the inside, but sparkling on the outside. It is useless for drinking or washing and is relegated as a trophy. He also speaks of tombs that look very nice and are whitewashed, but are containers of death.

I am hoping these questions will be something I can meditate on for a while. Would I be OK if I didn't have it altogether on the outside, but did have a deep relationship with Jesus? Would I want to trade intimacy with Christ for acceptance or honor from men and women? Would it feel like I was dying if I temporarily ignored God's grace and a relationship with Him?

Do you believe in life after LOST?

Ok, I know this isn't a promising start on two levels 1) there is a play on words with a Cher song and 2) it brings up a reality that so many of us are in denial about. In a little more than 24 hours, the phenomenon we all know as "LOST" will end. I guess in a figurative sense, it will always go on through the power of syndication, DVD sales, possible conventions (think trendier versions of the Star Trek ones), action figures, lunch boxes, spinoffs, imitations shows (I'm lookin' at you V and Flash Forward), and the Jimmy Kimmel LOST after show (really, Jimmy Kimmel?). But it is true that Sunday night is the finale.

I've taken lots of time to process this (hey, I'm raising support, give me a break!) and what my life will look like post-finale. I hope that some of these things will help you process this as well.

Q: What will the finale do to LOST's legacy?

A: I think most people are putting lots of pressure on this final episode to answer every question. It's like they have taken JJ Abrams hostage and are torturing him to get answers about the light in the island, Jacob and Flocke's identities, and who Desmond is. They have threatened to be eternally frustrated with LOST if these things arent answered and will huff and puff every time it comes up in conversation.

To me, they have already answered most of the questions. Remember when we didnt know where the polar bears and the smoke came from? When we wondered who the Dharma folks were? Why Richard never aged? When we wondered how Kate could date a guy as short as Charlie in real life? The last one is still a head scratcher, but the rest have been answered. The show has done what it is supposed to do: entertain and make us want to wonder what will happen next. So for me, the end would have to be REALLY stupid to tarnish the show as a whole.

Q: So after LOST ends, how will I fill this time slot?

A: It's like after a guy/girl in an emo movie gets dumped. You have 2 choices, 1) over eat, get drunk, live an generally vagrant lifestyle or 2) find another passion whether it be another person, a cause, or musical instrument. My stint team watched a movie where a long time professor meets some homeless African people who teach him the wonders of playing the Djembe. So he finds life in playing the Djembe on the street for change and applause, gaining street cred along the way.

So what should be your Djembe be? There are a few suggestions I have. Something not so similar to LOST that it just seems like its a lesser version of it, but something long enough and interesting enough to give you that same hunger to watch the next one. In my opinion the reason people loved LOST, was because of the characters you pulled for. Without them, its a weird science fiction story that is confusing and doesn't make you tip in favor of watching it. Basically, its what I envision Battlestar Galactica being. Here are a couple of ones I've seen already that fit the bill. (I'm leaving out reality TV shows and comedies because they are a different genre and a different experience altogether).

1) Friday Night Lights- on it's fourth season. Good music, good acting (for the most part), great writing, very easy to watch in mixed company. Really can't recommend this one enough to everyone. Plus, it has the guy from Early Edition as the star (anyone else not allowed to watch non-CBS shows growing up???)!!! Cons- gets a little soap opera-ish at times and I still don't know if Tim Riggins is Canadian or not.

2) The Wire- I know I said I'd never suggest it and technically I'm not endorsing it. You definitely won't be talking about spiritual significance or "who the Christ figure is." But it is a unique look for ivory tower white people like me into the drug culture of inner cities. It's a sad, harrowing, and gritty look. It is kinda depressing at times, but has that same quality of stickiness that LOST has. There's a reason critics have said its the greatest show of all time. Lots of no name actors, but has great writing and you really never know what will happen next. The show isn't attached to any one character and anyone is as likely to "get got" or transferred away. Season two sucks big time, but the other 4 are incredible in my opinion. It's HBO, so be warned that it's not for the faint of heart and I would never recommend girls to watch it. It's President Obama's favorite show, so if it offends you, just know that it's his fault and that I didn't vote for him. (that should absolve me).

3) 24- I'd probably recommend this one the least because it's a little redundant (though intense and involving). Also, most people have already watched them. And sweet fancy Moses, the acting is turrible, turrible, turrible.

Here are a few I haven't seen, but may end up watching for afterwards as options for the post-LOST fallout:

1) Heroes

2) The Corner

3) Weeds

4) Breaking Bad-Heard especially good things about this one.

5) The Mentalist-Only because it's my Dad's favorite show and he talks about it non-stop

6) The Sopranos

7) Deadwood

8) Happy Town

Ones I wont be watching:

1) Mad Men-too depressing, couldn't last 2 episodes through it

2) Any Crime Scene Investigation show (because I'm under 60 years old)

3) The OC-I dont even need to explain why for this one...

4) True Blood

5) Really anything with vampires

Wow, so now that I am feeling guilty about how much I know about TV compared to how little I know about the Bible, I'm going to spend the rest of the night repenting and memorizing enough scripture to even these things out.

Why late night TV is on late at night

For some reason, I've recently reverted back to my college schedule of sleeping as late as possible and consequently, watching late night TV until I fall asleep. The TV in my room is about 10 inches so I normally have to squint to see very clearly.

Late night TV is like rummaging through a garage sale "name your own price" bin. You KNOW there's not going to be anything of worth in there. Otherwise they would've put it on the display with the furniture and "AS SEEN ON TV" section of Slap Chops, EuroSealers, and WeedWackers that were only sparingly used if at all. The same is true of TV.

Along with informercials for the above stated products, there are mostly just repeats of 24 hour news broadcasts, comedians no one has heard of (and probably never will be heard of), and courtroom reality tv shows like Judge Judy. Occasionally you'll find the crown jewel of late night TV: a newish South Park episode that isn't sacrilegious. However, I would estimate that 85% of channels that aren't undergoing a test of the emergency broadcast system are the only thing that can divert my anger away from Coach K during this season of life: televangelists.

Normally they are either in front of a pulpit or in a sort of telethon setting, raising money for more people to be blessed through Reverend X's ministry. There are testimonies of elderly women being healed of the gout and youngish teens telling stories of placing their hands on their TV's late one night to receive a blessing from the televangelist. (I tried and all I got was a static shock from my TV screen. Thanks a lot Reverend.) For the most part I know that it's a hoax and a scheme to get old people who don't know that emails from Nigeria are normally dangerous, with lots of money to send them checks.

My unfiltered mind during late night times thinks about all the awful ways people are ripped off and start thinking of all the testimonies not shown on TV of confused people who are on their death beds still waiting for a miracle that will never come. Or the woman who is sterile who sows a $100 seed to this ministry who will never conceive, but has all the faith in the world.

But part of me kinda wants these guys to be real. Wouldn't it be great if all we had to do to prove to our skeptical friends that God is real was just to send in a $100 check and receive a miracle? It would take out so much intellectual work and faith work, believing in someone we've never seen in the flesh. As cheesy as these TV preachers are (the aren't really evangelists so I'll just say "preachers" instead), they really know what people want. They know that most people think they just want prosperity and not a real knowledge of whether God exists or not or whether we can know Him.

I'm reminded of the passage in Revelation where God sends Jesus to separate the true followers from the fakers. The real men of God from the extortionists, the cheaters, the actors, the ones who appear to love him, but really only love themselves and try to profit from him.

I should probably save this for another blog entry since its kind of a whole other topic, but the same night I was fuming over a TV preacher selling a color coordinated Bible (with every topic in one of 12 colors to signify whether it was referring to "God," "Peace," "The Devil," "Blessing," etc) for $129.99, I saw a video game commercial for the new Splinter Cell game. There were the normal scenes of a spy killing all sorts of bad guys with awesome graphics. But this was the song in the background that both brought me fear and confidence in God's justice:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxh-FfElY0M

Whenver a dead guy is still producing music after he's gone, you know its gonna be powerful. Especially if he can get powerful celebrities to do it for him and act all serious in a video. (My favorite part is the sign Bono writes that says "Sinners make the best Saints: RIP JC"...and then also Owen Wilson and the guy from ZZ Top throwing the flower in the air at the end).

But seriously, this was a really moving thing for me. The splinter cell commercial prompted me to look the video up. And then it made me think. This is a great message, not only for the celebrities of excess in the video itself (which, do you think they understood the irony of being cut down by God for ignoring His commands?), but also because it so reminds us that one day we will be judged with justice for the things we know in our hearts. For the actions we do and not the actors we play. For our attitudes and not our public personas. This is kinda scary honestly. But for those who know God and have received grace it is also comforting to know that one day there will be no more late night preachers left to confuse the poor and tease the weak with empty promises. Nor will there be idols of celebrity for us to chase after. The celebrities and TV preachers alike still have time to repent for their rebellion of the Gospel. For every long-tongued liar, every rambler and gambler and back-biter will one day either turn from their ways or be cut down.

"...but having seen them from afar..."

So admittedly and apologetically this will probably turn into my 2nd of 2 recent posts that are pretty morbid, death-focused musings. They are more serious than my demeanor would indicate most of the time, but it's been a topic that I've been confronted with a good amount recently for some reason. I really haven't been hanging out in graveyards or reading Poe and Kafka at all, I promise.

What I have been doing is questioning when my day will come.

"Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back," Maximus says.

Last year I had some pretty crazy moments where I was sure I would die within minutes. Most of them took place on crickety old Asian airplanes with pilates who looked no older than 16 years old.

Some of the others occurred after the Earthquake in Sichuan Province that killed so many people. One afternoon lying in bed, it was swiftly swept across my room, prompting me to run half naked into my roommate's room and scurry outside for a place where I could at least meet my Maker in the sunshine, not in my musty apartment room, clothes and papers strewn everywhere.

To be honest, I think that's why I was perpetually afraid of death, unable to smile back at it. I didn't want to be caught looking narrowly into my own life of disorganized papers and dirty laundry. It wasn't that I was necessarily convinced that I would cease to exist, foregoing the Biblical view of Heaven, but more that I would have died without experiencing lots of meaningful things in life.

Recently, I've felt like I'm just kinda treading water until I can start ministry again in East Asia. And without remembering those before me who have already died honorable, suffering-filled, spirit-fulfilling deaths for Christ, I will probably continue fretting about the day I breathe my last.

To be honest, if all I have is a bucket list where I want to get married, get promoted, get a house, have awesomely-athletic toddlers who are sports prodigies to groom, and get respect from important people, then I'll probably even feel that way when I start my job where I serve the Kingdom for a living.

But this is something that helps me: rereading Hebrews 11 and the "Hall of Faith" recounting how flannel-graphed Bible characters are given praise in the Heavenly places for the faith they demonstrated specifically. Many were martyred, but all (ok, except Enoch...he is almost ruining my point here...) died a physical death where they stopped breathing, their heart stopped beating, and brain synapses stopped firing.

This is what the author of Hebrews has to say about them (the long list of faithful men): "These all died, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one." Hebrews 11:13-16.

We are all dying in a Sylvia Plath kind of way

The inspiration for the title of this blog post can be attributed to Edward Norton's character in the movie Fight Club, which I think I've already used up my quota for "number of Fight Club spiritual analogies in a year."

It's when Norton and Marla Singer run into each other at several support groups for various diseases neither of them actually has that this idea is presented. Norton goes to these groups because they are the only things that can help him cry and therefore help him sleep. Marla's reason is unknown, but Norton knows that seeing Marla's lie by also coming to these meetings with cancer patients exposes the lie he himself is caught in.

"Marla did NOT have testicular cancer," Norton says.

When he finally confronts her lie he states that Marla was not dying,

"In the Tibetan philosophy, Sylvia Plath sense of the word, I know we're all--we're all dying, all right? But you're not dying the way Chloe back there is dying."

I know it wasn't the intention of this scene to do this, but I think recently I've found comfort in knowing that we are actually dying in the Tibetan philosophy, Sylvia Plath sense of the word." On one hand it's a little depressing thinking that we will all have 5-8 minutes less than we did after we finish reading this than before we started. On the other hand it seems that our mortality is a gift that keeps us humble and grounded in something otherworldly and eternal. Each second our body is decaying, our skin dying, our organs losing their strength, but it does not have to be despairing.

I started reading Safely Home by Randy Alcorn today (thanks Carol for lending it to me!) and was really moved by one character "Ben," who is the VP of a big microchip company. He apparently was a committed follower of Jesus in college at Harvard, leading his Chinese roommate to Christ while there. But now, he is successful in business, and divorced, lonely, alienating even to his cousins and family.

Every Monday morning he reads a list of goals he compiled while at a convention 6 years ago. The first was to integrate his business' assets into the Chinese market and infrastructure. The 2nd was to be President by the time he was 48. Within reach. The 3rd was to accumulate enough wealth to do anything and go anywhere he wanted.

I really hope I never lose sight of what God is doing in me and showing me in my 20's. I hope that remembering we are all slowly, but surely dying will keep me from making professional or ministry goals the Lord of my life.

It's a sad existence to leave