How shameful and deep my sin before a holy God.
How utterly debase and without remedy my circumstances before Him.
On what grounds could I possibly approach Him?
Only because I know that His Son has already suffered everything that stands between us.
It cannot be, it must not ever be, anything more or less than precisely that.
I may approach the Father because the Son has made a way.
My life I doubly owe to Him; both the breath of life within me and the Spirit within me are willing and unilateral gifts from Him. My life is simply and totally a gift; therefore I cannot see how I can lay any claim to it whatsoever. And so I must be a living sacrifice, yet even that is impossible to me without Him.
Why would a perfect God create such a situation, with creatures who can give Him nothing, and rely on Him for everything, then pay an unimaginably great price to make a way back to Himself when they rejected Him? It could only be because of His love. No other motive can explain it.
So I am given life, and am loved. The only suitable response can be to live life, and to love. And to do both well. May this coming year be a year in which I learn how.
-Joseph
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Fall Semester's End - A Poem
Somehow it got here, the very last class
The end of an era, has now come to pass
Exams now, and papers, these few final tests
My sleep swiftly steal, as my eyes will attest
My brain is a numbness, my social life dies
But cups of caffeine clear the mist from my eyes
Now vocab, and method, and reading, and such
Have stolen my time and not left me with much
Yet drenching my mind with these faithful conceptions
Is starting me next year with heightened perceptions
Forgive me, my friends, if I seem to sequester
Myself at the end of this fruitful semester
But failing to reach those high marks which I've struggled
To reach leaves me questioning all that I've juggled
My time and my habits are all in debate
Until these dread deadlines begin to abate
And reaching a place where I find I can rest
I can put from my mind every thought of a test
And quizzes and papers and protestant movements
And yes those turabian format improvements
For now that the break time has finally come
I can get back my sleep and my mind and then some
Yet resting and chatting and eating my fill
I can't rid my brain of a daunting thought still
Which is namely that all this has been only one
Of the numerous laps before this race is run
I'll need more endurance to get to the end
Of all this, and so I most surely intend
To make resolutions which prove efficacious
At saving my wits in a schedule less gracious
So gratefully Lord now I thank You at last
That a worthwhile semester is finally past
And I read my devotions for worship and pleasure
Not just hermeneutical value to measure
For of making of books there is no end in sight
As Solomon noted, and he was quite right
Now we pack up our things and drive home for a while
For good times with loved ones we'll greet with a smile
But with all that we're doing, it's best to remember:
New classes come quickly when it's late December
-Michael Joseph Swanson
The end of an era, has now come to pass
Exams now, and papers, these few final tests
My sleep swiftly steal, as my eyes will attest
My brain is a numbness, my social life dies
But cups of caffeine clear the mist from my eyes
Now vocab, and method, and reading, and such
Have stolen my time and not left me with much
Yet drenching my mind with these faithful conceptions
Is starting me next year with heightened perceptions
Forgive me, my friends, if I seem to sequester
Myself at the end of this fruitful semester
But failing to reach those high marks which I've struggled
To reach leaves me questioning all that I've juggled
My time and my habits are all in debate
Until these dread deadlines begin to abate
And reaching a place where I find I can rest
I can put from my mind every thought of a test
And quizzes and papers and protestant movements
And yes those turabian format improvements
For now that the break time has finally come
I can get back my sleep and my mind and then some
Yet resting and chatting and eating my fill
I can't rid my brain of a daunting thought still
Which is namely that all this has been only one
Of the numerous laps before this race is run
I'll need more endurance to get to the end
Of all this, and so I most surely intend
To make resolutions which prove efficacious
At saving my wits in a schedule less gracious
So gratefully Lord now I thank You at last
That a worthwhile semester is finally past
And I read my devotions for worship and pleasure
Not just hermeneutical value to measure
For of making of books there is no end in sight
As Solomon noted, and he was quite right
Now we pack up our things and drive home for a while
For good times with loved ones we'll greet with a smile
But with all that we're doing, it's best to remember:
New classes come quickly when it's late December
-Michael Joseph Swanson
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Egenomaen, Ginomai, Ginsomai
I have become, I am becoming, I will become...
Trusting that my Greek is not utterly wrong, that is. And Greek is just one of the things that have been poured into me this semester. I feel like a freshman again, so much perspective-shifting knowledge being acquired in such a short period of time that it almost makes me dizzy.
The words of the Bible seem to leap forth from the page now, a process that will but increase with all the Biblical Exposition classes I must take next semester.
As someone who distrusted seminary initially, I admit I am taking to it rather quickly.
But then, it's also not what I expected, nor what I have heard it was. How strange that nearly everything I engage in works out differently for me than its reputation would seem to suggest.
I am sure, of course, that having a clear goal in sight helps. Moving steadily towards the missions field allows me to see my classes not as information that may or may not be applicable to my eventual ministry, but as crucial scraps of information every one of which may be useful at some point in the future. And are useful even now. God has graciously connected me with a number of ministry opportunities that apply directly to the goal toward which I strive, both equipping me for that goal and confirming me in my pursuit of it. I will not jump to conclusions, God may indeed have some other goal than the missions field and Taiwan which He is currently preparing me for and will soon begin steering me closer to, but for now I have only received repeated confirmations that the direction I am facing is the one I should continue in.
And so I look back over a semester, not-yet-completed, in which I began knowing the Greek alphabet, and now can make sense of an imperfect middle/passive indicative Greek verb; in which I began knowing archeology supported the Bible and now know that the ancient city of Ugarit supplied much of our background information on culture in the times of the Patriarchs and Conquest; in which I began knowing that context was crucial in interpreting Scripture, and now know that literary genre forms an essential part of that context; in which I began knowing that spiritual discipline was an area I was deficient in, and now cannot imagine how I have managed all this time without it. God is truly gracious, and it must be true that as far as I have come in one semester of seminary, while an incontrovertible blessing, also pales in comparison with how far I am yet called to go.
And I cannot do this on my own, that much is obvious. Left to myself, I have only picked the path which seemed good to me, only to find that my best intentions often led to painful consequences. And such is still the case. I need Him every day. I am lost without Him. He is the Source which perpetually holds all things together, and the foundation of my world, both tangible and intangible. Truly He is my Light, my Rock, and my Salvation, and forevermore shall be.
因為祂是我的主
Trusting that my Greek is not utterly wrong, that is. And Greek is just one of the things that have been poured into me this semester. I feel like a freshman again, so much perspective-shifting knowledge being acquired in such a short period of time that it almost makes me dizzy.
The words of the Bible seem to leap forth from the page now, a process that will but increase with all the Biblical Exposition classes I must take next semester.
As someone who distrusted seminary initially, I admit I am taking to it rather quickly.
But then, it's also not what I expected, nor what I have heard it was. How strange that nearly everything I engage in works out differently for me than its reputation would seem to suggest.
I am sure, of course, that having a clear goal in sight helps. Moving steadily towards the missions field allows me to see my classes not as information that may or may not be applicable to my eventual ministry, but as crucial scraps of information every one of which may be useful at some point in the future. And are useful even now. God has graciously connected me with a number of ministry opportunities that apply directly to the goal toward which I strive, both equipping me for that goal and confirming me in my pursuit of it. I will not jump to conclusions, God may indeed have some other goal than the missions field and Taiwan which He is currently preparing me for and will soon begin steering me closer to, but for now I have only received repeated confirmations that the direction I am facing is the one I should continue in.
And so I look back over a semester, not-yet-completed, in which I began knowing the Greek alphabet, and now can make sense of an imperfect middle/passive indicative Greek verb; in which I began knowing archeology supported the Bible and now know that the ancient city of Ugarit supplied much of our background information on culture in the times of the Patriarchs and Conquest; in which I began knowing that context was crucial in interpreting Scripture, and now know that literary genre forms an essential part of that context; in which I began knowing that spiritual discipline was an area I was deficient in, and now cannot imagine how I have managed all this time without it. God is truly gracious, and it must be true that as far as I have come in one semester of seminary, while an incontrovertible blessing, also pales in comparison with how far I am yet called to go.
And I cannot do this on my own, that much is obvious. Left to myself, I have only picked the path which seemed good to me, only to find that my best intentions often led to painful consequences. And such is still the case. I need Him every day. I am lost without Him. He is the Source which perpetually holds all things together, and the foundation of my world, both tangible and intangible. Truly He is my Light, my Rock, and my Salvation, and forevermore shall be.
Kai proskunevw aujtovn...
因為祂是我的主
Monday, October 5, 2009
Familiar Time Constraints
My thoughts are fragmented tonight. I feel as though I write while in the act of stepping from one stone to another in this phase of my life, crossing an icy stream. I cannot pause to collect my thoughts, for to cease stepping is to begin falling in. Those tentative leaps, when one's foot has only moments to decide whether the stone it lands upon is a suitable resting place, or a treacherous platform that will tip into the flowing torrent. Perhaps I should pay more attention to the next stone and less to writing about the moment when I hang in between them. But my thoughts seek to be written. Perhaps I can force them into a cohesive framework. Here goes.
It's been a few years since I've been in this place.
My wristwatch is back. It vanished from my wrist while in Taiwan, and stayed mostly off it from the time of my return until a couple of weeks ago. Now it encircles my wrist again, marking the passage of time and a newly necessary concern for it.
As a symbol, it's useful for marking my return to a familiar style of life.
For almost a year now, I've been back in the States. It's not all been pleasant, but God has lifted me from my post-return slump in more ways than one. Now I'm living in Dallas Texas and attending classes at Dallas seminary. My brain and will resisted the change in some ways. They had gotten lazy, used to weeks in which my schedule was flexible. Even working at Barnhart, when I had little time for anything else, felt like a cessation from normality, not a change in the pace of life.
Starting the semester, I took too much advantage of the free time my schedule allowed. Though I did search for a job, finding few suitable openings and applying fruitlessly to the ones I did find, my time-management was fundamentally unacceptable. But the metronome's pace was quickening inexorably. The change was preceded by a torrent of godly wisdom, received from my surroundings at seminary and a loving Father who did not deal with me as my actions (or inaction) deserved. Then the flood of busyness came. The experience is like an out-of-shape person getting back into an exercise routine. First it seems impossible that such a physically demanding workout could be repeated multiple times a week. Then it seems possible but exhausting. Then it seems exhausting but somehow rewarding. Then it becomes rewarding and enjoyable. Enjoyable in a tiring way, but enjoyable nonetheless, as useful and productive things often are. Finally one finds oneself enjoying something that would have been totally impossible before. It's growth, in a real sense.
Now I am working into a pace of life that slips on like a constricting but familiar necktie, and I see how far I am advancing. Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a time and a season for everything in life. This is, it would seem, the season in which I do many things and rest little. Projects, meetings, assignments, ministry, church meetings, errands... where have I seen this pattern before? Ah yes.
Hello college days. Haven't seen you in a while. Were you missed? In some ways, perhaps.
Now Taiwan that was an open-ended change in my life, with a return but no resolution, begins to assume a consigned place in it: "Between my post-college work experience, and my time at DTS." It sounds so mundane with bookends, even with one bookend being DTS. Yet thankfully it has not been made less relevant by the consignment. That year, so much more significant than a year could seem to be, propels me forward. And it stays with me, in some ways. Somehow, I know a little Chinese. It becomes almost humorous in the context of American life. Suddenly I am speaking some other language which white people do not, as a rule, speak here. I hear a strange voice, and that is certainly Chinese coming from me.
I cannot allow myself to rest upon that year, however. It would be easy. I have enough stories for a lifetime of telling interesting stories to people who haven't heard them yet. I have enough Chinese to impress Chinese people who haven't met me before. I have enough Taiwanese nicknacks and decorative odds and ends to look well-traveled and experienced to untraveled or inexperienced people. How disastrous would it be to remain here, growing comfortable in a slowly diminishing Taiwanese adaptation, satisfying myself with happy memories of a year to be remembered? A sad fate. One sadly realized by not a few.
But I have a goal, one I feel did not originate in me. My burden for Taiwan may be made to rest and wait while I make preparations, but it has not been laid aside, or forgotten. I pray that God will never let me do so. And it does not seem that He will. I am in a Chinese church now, where my meager Chinese cannot be taken for granted, but must indeed be improved if I am to be effective. I have been asked to lead missions trips to Taiwan. I met a TEAM rep the other day. Such things are not coincidental, and I have not sought them out. They found me, and I only responded. I thank God for this two-fold blessing; that I could continue my journey towards Taiwan even as I spend time away preparing for it, and that He brings these things to me so that I cannot accuse myself of pursuing a Taiwanese 'bubble' when I am surrounded by other needs.
So now I walk an unfamiliar path, yet with surroundings and echoes that seem familiar.
Living in a new city but with Taiwanese food. Working at a new church but with ministry in Chinese. Ironically it is that which is foreign that seems familiar, and that which is familiar that seems foreign. My mind struggles to separate the two, yet is grateful for their presence together.
I am plunging back into the realm of serious academia, yet with a flavor added by experiences gained since my last sojourn there. (Shall all of life unfold this way?)
But I cannot rest here either, for graduate school does not last long.
The sluggish inertia that seeks to lie down and sleep at every new pause and the restless drive to push on past every resting place are in constant tension. The flesh rises up in rebellion, clouding my vision and impeding my steps. There can be no tolerating it, total war is the only option.
Lord, please teach me to rest in you, and yet also run the race with endurance. I am not satisfied with who I am, but let my progress be guided by a disciplined seeking after Christ, not by a conformation to the demands of my life. And all this cannot happen from my own efforts. I must seek the presence of the One who gives life in abundance.
I need more of Him. I must have more of Him.
-Joseph
It's been a few years since I've been in this place.
My wristwatch is back. It vanished from my wrist while in Taiwan, and stayed mostly off it from the time of my return until a couple of weeks ago. Now it encircles my wrist again, marking the passage of time and a newly necessary concern for it.
As a symbol, it's useful for marking my return to a familiar style of life.
For almost a year now, I've been back in the States. It's not all been pleasant, but God has lifted me from my post-return slump in more ways than one. Now I'm living in Dallas Texas and attending classes at Dallas seminary. My brain and will resisted the change in some ways. They had gotten lazy, used to weeks in which my schedule was flexible. Even working at Barnhart, when I had little time for anything else, felt like a cessation from normality, not a change in the pace of life.
Starting the semester, I took too much advantage of the free time my schedule allowed. Though I did search for a job, finding few suitable openings and applying fruitlessly to the ones I did find, my time-management was fundamentally unacceptable. But the metronome's pace was quickening inexorably. The change was preceded by a torrent of godly wisdom, received from my surroundings at seminary and a loving Father who did not deal with me as my actions (or inaction) deserved. Then the flood of busyness came. The experience is like an out-of-shape person getting back into an exercise routine. First it seems impossible that such a physically demanding workout could be repeated multiple times a week. Then it seems possible but exhausting. Then it seems exhausting but somehow rewarding. Then it becomes rewarding and enjoyable. Enjoyable in a tiring way, but enjoyable nonetheless, as useful and productive things often are. Finally one finds oneself enjoying something that would have been totally impossible before. It's growth, in a real sense.
Now I am working into a pace of life that slips on like a constricting but familiar necktie, and I see how far I am advancing. Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a time and a season for everything in life. This is, it would seem, the season in which I do many things and rest little. Projects, meetings, assignments, ministry, church meetings, errands... where have I seen this pattern before? Ah yes.
Hello college days. Haven't seen you in a while. Were you missed? In some ways, perhaps.
Now Taiwan that was an open-ended change in my life, with a return but no resolution, begins to assume a consigned place in it: "Between my post-college work experience, and my time at DTS." It sounds so mundane with bookends, even with one bookend being DTS. Yet thankfully it has not been made less relevant by the consignment. That year, so much more significant than a year could seem to be, propels me forward. And it stays with me, in some ways. Somehow, I know a little Chinese. It becomes almost humorous in the context of American life. Suddenly I am speaking some other language which white people do not, as a rule, speak here. I hear a strange voice, and that is certainly Chinese coming from me.
I cannot allow myself to rest upon that year, however. It would be easy. I have enough stories for a lifetime of telling interesting stories to people who haven't heard them yet. I have enough Chinese to impress Chinese people who haven't met me before. I have enough Taiwanese nicknacks and decorative odds and ends to look well-traveled and experienced to untraveled or inexperienced people. How disastrous would it be to remain here, growing comfortable in a slowly diminishing Taiwanese adaptation, satisfying myself with happy memories of a year to be remembered? A sad fate. One sadly realized by not a few.
But I have a goal, one I feel did not originate in me. My burden for Taiwan may be made to rest and wait while I make preparations, but it has not been laid aside, or forgotten. I pray that God will never let me do so. And it does not seem that He will. I am in a Chinese church now, where my meager Chinese cannot be taken for granted, but must indeed be improved if I am to be effective. I have been asked to lead missions trips to Taiwan. I met a TEAM rep the other day. Such things are not coincidental, and I have not sought them out. They found me, and I only responded. I thank God for this two-fold blessing; that I could continue my journey towards Taiwan even as I spend time away preparing for it, and that He brings these things to me so that I cannot accuse myself of pursuing a Taiwanese 'bubble' when I am surrounded by other needs.
So now I walk an unfamiliar path, yet with surroundings and echoes that seem familiar.
Living in a new city but with Taiwanese food. Working at a new church but with ministry in Chinese. Ironically it is that which is foreign that seems familiar, and that which is familiar that seems foreign. My mind struggles to separate the two, yet is grateful for their presence together.
I am plunging back into the realm of serious academia, yet with a flavor added by experiences gained since my last sojourn there. (Shall all of life unfold this way?)
But I cannot rest here either, for graduate school does not last long.
The sluggish inertia that seeks to lie down and sleep at every new pause and the restless drive to push on past every resting place are in constant tension. The flesh rises up in rebellion, clouding my vision and impeding my steps. There can be no tolerating it, total war is the only option.
Lord, please teach me to rest in you, and yet also run the race with endurance. I am not satisfied with who I am, but let my progress be guided by a disciplined seeking after Christ, not by a conformation to the demands of my life. And all this cannot happen from my own efforts. I must seek the presence of the One who gives life in abundance.
I need more of Him. I must have more of Him.
-Joseph
Monday, September 28, 2009
What dreams may come...
This shall not make sense, but perhaps value may be found in the free flow of thought tonight...
Infinite shades of complexity? Subtle shadows gliding through the folds of memory?
How can we define that which passes through what is deeper than our conscious ability to control? Yet such things compel us, arrest us, occasionally stop us in our tracks.
A night falling into meditation of sorrows would be but a night. Weeping may last for that night, but joy comes in the morning. He who made the sunrise to follow folded the elaborate subtleties of the human psyche, and placed my joy there, beyond the reach of worlds.
Distant strains of a melody too complex to catch, yet the spirit listens and is moved. Dark tides sweep the shores of regret, yet the dawn is inevitable, and that sun will burn away doubt.
The yawning chasm that beckons cannot swallow my life which is hidden in Him who fills all, shall it devour the days of that life spent in the flat lands? Let the fire which He gives kindle those days into a streaming light of purpose. A beacon.
Surely soon the lessons learned in time will channel the time which passes so swiftly.
Spinning the wheels of purpose into a maelstrom of accomplishment, but no pause for rest.
The rest which comes but seeks the cessation of purpose, it seeks only itself.
May I rest rather in Him, resting as one whose labors have not ceased but increase.
The increasing brings purpose, yet the purpose brings increase, a cycle spinning forwards in time, spiraling as it advances, dimensions in dimension. It sums a life, totaling the moments spent and wasted, rested and labored, slept and spent.
The free play of the mind brings forth meaning which has yet no cast, which has not been formed into the structures that fit into a machine. The machine with cogs so tight, so cogent, so cohesive. Yet if the machine be neglected, the play will also perish.
That which is formed gives fullness, and that which is full inhabits the form. So formlessness is a nothingness. He is He without which nothing is strong, no thing is strong, but even nothing is not strong without Him, for all strength belongs to the unceasing source of energy which is energy unto itself.
Harmonies which take form, interplaying with being, drawing the inferences into sight, hiding the complexities behind syntheses of meaning. Becoming the pictures which dry the sound stiff, yet reverberate with its harmonics to begin the music again when another form is found. Flowing onward, never ceasing, bringing all to fulfillment within the web that is Seen. The Picture is painted, yet the Painter does not cease to paint. He who exists in eternal relation in only that which will always have been now also lends to our being that which is both complete and ever being completed. And the song does not end.
Shall the discord be resolved in a long, fiery burst through the pale, or by a grey, rippling drop into the strife? Let it be so now that the rhythm may not be delayed, for this meter should not tarry before the hill, lest the scroll be left there.
As the scroll unfolds, as the pages turn, as the keys advance and strings reverberate and the words are layed down as thickly as the dancing tune demands, let the pauses be merely the cessations which bring the rhythm to be.
Being is motion, motion is sound, sound is thought, thought is light, light is the word, and The Word is Being.
Let him who has ears, hear the sound of the Word, for the Word is moving to light the world's shadows.
Incendite Tenebris Mundi.
And the hour which will once have always been arriving comes, swiftly.
-Joseph
Infinite shades of complexity? Subtle shadows gliding through the folds of memory?
How can we define that which passes through what is deeper than our conscious ability to control? Yet such things compel us, arrest us, occasionally stop us in our tracks.
A night falling into meditation of sorrows would be but a night. Weeping may last for that night, but joy comes in the morning. He who made the sunrise to follow folded the elaborate subtleties of the human psyche, and placed my joy there, beyond the reach of worlds.
Distant strains of a melody too complex to catch, yet the spirit listens and is moved. Dark tides sweep the shores of regret, yet the dawn is inevitable, and that sun will burn away doubt.
The yawning chasm that beckons cannot swallow my life which is hidden in Him who fills all, shall it devour the days of that life spent in the flat lands? Let the fire which He gives kindle those days into a streaming light of purpose. A beacon.
Surely soon the lessons learned in time will channel the time which passes so swiftly.
Spinning the wheels of purpose into a maelstrom of accomplishment, but no pause for rest.
The rest which comes but seeks the cessation of purpose, it seeks only itself.
May I rest rather in Him, resting as one whose labors have not ceased but increase.
The increasing brings purpose, yet the purpose brings increase, a cycle spinning forwards in time, spiraling as it advances, dimensions in dimension. It sums a life, totaling the moments spent and wasted, rested and labored, slept and spent.
The free play of the mind brings forth meaning which has yet no cast, which has not been formed into the structures that fit into a machine. The machine with cogs so tight, so cogent, so cohesive. Yet if the machine be neglected, the play will also perish.
That which is formed gives fullness, and that which is full inhabits the form. So formlessness is a nothingness. He is He without which nothing is strong, no thing is strong, but even nothing is not strong without Him, for all strength belongs to the unceasing source of energy which is energy unto itself.
Harmonies which take form, interplaying with being, drawing the inferences into sight, hiding the complexities behind syntheses of meaning. Becoming the pictures which dry the sound stiff, yet reverberate with its harmonics to begin the music again when another form is found. Flowing onward, never ceasing, bringing all to fulfillment within the web that is Seen. The Picture is painted, yet the Painter does not cease to paint. He who exists in eternal relation in only that which will always have been now also lends to our being that which is both complete and ever being completed. And the song does not end.
Shall the discord be resolved in a long, fiery burst through the pale, or by a grey, rippling drop into the strife? Let it be so now that the rhythm may not be delayed, for this meter should not tarry before the hill, lest the scroll be left there.
As the scroll unfolds, as the pages turn, as the keys advance and strings reverberate and the words are layed down as thickly as the dancing tune demands, let the pauses be merely the cessations which bring the rhythm to be.
Being is motion, motion is sound, sound is thought, thought is light, light is the word, and The Word is Being.
Let him who has ears, hear the sound of the Word, for the Word is moving to light the world's shadows.
Incendite Tenebris Mundi.
And the hour which will once have always been arriving comes, swiftly.
-Joseph
Thursday, September 3, 2009
One Great Love
Listening to David Crowder, something comes across and rises in me which I seldom feel from other groups, and that is devotional joy. It's strange that they would be one of so few bands which cause this reaction in me, I am sure many other Christian bands put great joy into their music, and this is not meant as a slight to them. However, for me, something about the way the David Crowder Band goes about it serves as a vehicle for joy more than any other group I know. It may be a combination of several things: technical artistry, musical skill, poetic yet rock-solid lyrics, and their own devotional joy. Perhaps the technical artistry and musical skill allow the truth in the lyrics and joy in the realization of their truth to come through uninhibited.
However it may be, God uses them for me as a vehicle of His joy, and it's one of the better ways to start off a morning that I know of.
I've had a busy time of it since I last wrote.
The Taiwan trip was first, and getting stuck there for a few days (again!). I may record some of my impressions of that trip next entry, as I have not yet written them down. Doing so publicly means not every detail will be shared, but it will be good to have many things transcribed. If anyone can benefit from them, so much the better.
I will only say now in passing that it was a good trip, especially since two of my siblings who had not previously been able to go could join us this year.
Upon returning from Taiwan, I had about two days of self-imposed downtime before I had to start the process of finding a place to live in Dallas for seminary. In this, as in so many things, God's plans were different from and greatly superior to my own, and instead of the decent off-campus housing I had located, I was able to secure a room on campus, only days before class started. This happened due to a missionary friend in Taiwan tracking me down at camp in order to introduce to me a Chinese lady who worked at Dallas seminary who "just happened" to be visiting her while our group was in Taiwan. The lady invited me to visit her church which was in the Dallas area, and gave me her contact information. She later contacted me saying that there were rooms available on campus, and not only was I able to secure one, but received a signing bonus, credit for the campus bookstore which payed for my textbooks. (I think I have payed approximately $1 of my own money for them all, and they are a veritable pile)
Once I was settled in, I was able to visit the church as well, and have gotten involved with the youth group there. There are actually two youth groups, an English-speaking group and a Chinese-speaking group. They are radically different, one being primarily comprised of ABC's (American-born Chinese) and the other of comparatively recent immigrants from asia. Cultural differences are striking; a doctoral thesis could probably be written merely by studying the differences in the two groups at this one church. My intention is to work with the Chinese-speaking group, they are a good group of students, and one full of potential. Lord willing I will be able to write of the progress of that ministry here in the future.
The church itself is interesting. The Chinese congregation is 3 times the size of the English congregation, and the membership is roughly half Taiwanese and half Chinese (there are Malaysians, Singaporeans, and others there too), which in itself is a small miracle and testiment to God's unifying love.
So many blessings in so short a time; the mind is still spinning, but the heart is grateful.
God shows in so many ways that He is a loving father Who knows my needs better than I do, and Who arranges accordingly. So far from being a wrathful Deity waiting to bring pain into my life as a (totally justified) punishment for every sin, He delights in blessing me and showing that He has thought of me and made a plan just for me. The realization hits me often, and never quite loses the sense of a thing being realized for the first time.
Now I'm studying His word seriously in an academic setting, a first for me.
Many have had the joy of their walk and faith in the scriptures leached away at seminary; the enemy must laugh at the irony of going to study the Bible being the downfall of one's faith in it.
Having arrived and started classes, I have little fear of this happening at DTS. Not only do all my professors have a professed and obvious love for the scriptures, but they have cautioned us against this very dryness of spirit which can occur when studying them as a textbook versus reading them as the Word of God. Most have supplied strategies for combatting this tendency.
I have been consistently impressed. No school is perfect, but DTS seems to have intentionally sought the best route for conveying the mastery of Biblical truth to their students for many years, while also seeking to serve God wholeheartedly as an institution. And it shows.
To be able to study here is a great blessing, the magnitude of which I will come to understand even more the longer I stay, I suspect. For now, I simply marvel at the love which can grant such things to someone like me. May His name be greatly praised, for He has done, and will do, and is doing, great things.
More to come...
-Joseph
However it may be, God uses them for me as a vehicle of His joy, and it's one of the better ways to start off a morning that I know of.
I've had a busy time of it since I last wrote.
The Taiwan trip was first, and getting stuck there for a few days (again!). I may record some of my impressions of that trip next entry, as I have not yet written them down. Doing so publicly means not every detail will be shared, but it will be good to have many things transcribed. If anyone can benefit from them, so much the better.
I will only say now in passing that it was a good trip, especially since two of my siblings who had not previously been able to go could join us this year.
Upon returning from Taiwan, I had about two days of self-imposed downtime before I had to start the process of finding a place to live in Dallas for seminary. In this, as in so many things, God's plans were different from and greatly superior to my own, and instead of the decent off-campus housing I had located, I was able to secure a room on campus, only days before class started. This happened due to a missionary friend in Taiwan tracking me down at camp in order to introduce to me a Chinese lady who worked at Dallas seminary who "just happened" to be visiting her while our group was in Taiwan. The lady invited me to visit her church which was in the Dallas area, and gave me her contact information. She later contacted me saying that there were rooms available on campus, and not only was I able to secure one, but received a signing bonus, credit for the campus bookstore which payed for my textbooks. (I think I have payed approximately $1 of my own money for them all, and they are a veritable pile)
Once I was settled in, I was able to visit the church as well, and have gotten involved with the youth group there. There are actually two youth groups, an English-speaking group and a Chinese-speaking group. They are radically different, one being primarily comprised of ABC's (American-born Chinese) and the other of comparatively recent immigrants from asia. Cultural differences are striking; a doctoral thesis could probably be written merely by studying the differences in the two groups at this one church. My intention is to work with the Chinese-speaking group, they are a good group of students, and one full of potential. Lord willing I will be able to write of the progress of that ministry here in the future.
The church itself is interesting. The Chinese congregation is 3 times the size of the English congregation, and the membership is roughly half Taiwanese and half Chinese (there are Malaysians, Singaporeans, and others there too), which in itself is a small miracle and testiment to God's unifying love.
So many blessings in so short a time; the mind is still spinning, but the heart is grateful.
God shows in so many ways that He is a loving father Who knows my needs better than I do, and Who arranges accordingly. So far from being a wrathful Deity waiting to bring pain into my life as a (totally justified) punishment for every sin, He delights in blessing me and showing that He has thought of me and made a plan just for me. The realization hits me often, and never quite loses the sense of a thing being realized for the first time.
Now I'm studying His word seriously in an academic setting, a first for me.
Many have had the joy of their walk and faith in the scriptures leached away at seminary; the enemy must laugh at the irony of going to study the Bible being the downfall of one's faith in it.
Having arrived and started classes, I have little fear of this happening at DTS. Not only do all my professors have a professed and obvious love for the scriptures, but they have cautioned us against this very dryness of spirit which can occur when studying them as a textbook versus reading them as the Word of God. Most have supplied strategies for combatting this tendency.
I have been consistently impressed. No school is perfect, but DTS seems to have intentionally sought the best route for conveying the mastery of Biblical truth to their students for many years, while also seeking to serve God wholeheartedly as an institution. And it shows.
To be able to study here is a great blessing, the magnitude of which I will come to understand even more the longer I stay, I suspect. For now, I simply marvel at the love which can grant such things to someone like me. May His name be greatly praised, for He has done, and will do, and is doing, great things.
More to come...
-Joseph
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Be Still and Know
So much going on these days.
It seems that I load my plate over the course of months, yet must eat it all in a few weeks.
Why is that, exactly? Perhaps better planning or forethought on my part would ameliorate it, but perhaps it's just how life is.
And as Murphy's Law would have it, those busiest times are the times when unavoidable incidents pop up that require fast-fading time to resolve.
A large part of one's success in the world, especially our harried, modern world, can be directly attributed to how one handles stress. In fact stress is one of the worst parasites in our world, more specifically that portion of the world which values time more highly than anything else, yet often uses it so inefficiently.
We have become slaves to time, and even innocent inquiries into one's schedule are met with defensive protests of how busy we are. Yet sometimes these inquiries are not innocent.
How many times have you managed to find a breathing spell, take a vacation, or maybe even just endured a more or less normal week, only to be confronted with a knowing look.
"Oh, that sounds nice. I wish I had time for that sort of thing. But I've been so buried lately. You know how it is."
The condemnation is implied, barely veiled. Sometimes open.
"I am busier than you" has somehow become equivalent to "I am better than you".
Yet even within the context of a highly time-conscious culture, mere busyness should never have been allowed to take precedent. Productivity is by far more important; if one can accomplish a week's work in a day, how much better is that than frantically rushing about to accomplish three day's work in one whole week? But this is not the case now.
To cite personal experience, in none of my times of employment has productivity been actually valued above busyness. The point is always to spend your workday doing -something-, even accomplishing nothing of value is acceptable as long as you appear to be engaged in activity the whole time. Play solitaire for three hours every day if you must, but always be at your desk doing something. Move piles of dirt back and forth to no purpose, but for goodness' sake don't finish a major task then be seen sitting down.
Of course, some careers demand slightly more. You may be called upon to occasionally defend your value. But how far up the chain must one go before one really is judged by performance?
Quite high, and even then busyness can be used an a substitute for profitability in many situations.
Our culture's decline in vigor and profitability can be attributed to many things; surely one of them must be that we no longer focus on results, but on endless activity. Somewhere, we forgot that results are not implied by activity, there is an art and a discipline to making 'work' productive. So we rush, and hurry, and honk impatiently at slower drivers, and make frantic glances to see whether we might secure some nearer place in line. We take billions of dollars of subscription medications, to cure our stress-related illnesses, but any suggestion that we slow down and achieve meaningful lives amid the chaos is treated with contempt. What would other people think?
Contrast this to the attitude of Jesus. He "withdrew to a solitary place" to spend time with His Father. He did not turn away the 'distraction' of the children, but commanded the disciples to bring them before Him. He had time for every person who needed Him, yet somehow, He lived an earthly life more meaningful than any other person could hope for, and accomplished the full purpose of God.
As Christians, we have fallen after the world's pattern of busyness with a vengeance. We take all the world's distractions, and then try to cram church, ministry, and "God time" in amongst them.
Little wonder we find that it often falls through the cracks.
If God is God, and He Is, He must take priority. Not all of our pursuits are valueless or evil, but let them fall as they may; He must be first.
Lord, I am guilty of this sin more perhaps than any who will read this. May I make you my immovable priority in every day as I have made you in my life's plans. Amen.
-Joseph
It seems that I load my plate over the course of months, yet must eat it all in a few weeks.
Why is that, exactly? Perhaps better planning or forethought on my part would ameliorate it, but perhaps it's just how life is.
And as Murphy's Law would have it, those busiest times are the times when unavoidable incidents pop up that require fast-fading time to resolve.
A large part of one's success in the world, especially our harried, modern world, can be directly attributed to how one handles stress. In fact stress is one of the worst parasites in our world, more specifically that portion of the world which values time more highly than anything else, yet often uses it so inefficiently.
We have become slaves to time, and even innocent inquiries into one's schedule are met with defensive protests of how busy we are. Yet sometimes these inquiries are not innocent.
How many times have you managed to find a breathing spell, take a vacation, or maybe even just endured a more or less normal week, only to be confronted with a knowing look.
"Oh, that sounds nice. I wish I had time for that sort of thing. But I've been so buried lately. You know how it is."
The condemnation is implied, barely veiled. Sometimes open.
"I am busier than you" has somehow become equivalent to "I am better than you".
Yet even within the context of a highly time-conscious culture, mere busyness should never have been allowed to take precedent. Productivity is by far more important; if one can accomplish a week's work in a day, how much better is that than frantically rushing about to accomplish three day's work in one whole week? But this is not the case now.
To cite personal experience, in none of my times of employment has productivity been actually valued above busyness. The point is always to spend your workday doing -something-, even accomplishing nothing of value is acceptable as long as you appear to be engaged in activity the whole time. Play solitaire for three hours every day if you must, but always be at your desk doing something. Move piles of dirt back and forth to no purpose, but for goodness' sake don't finish a major task then be seen sitting down.
Of course, some careers demand slightly more. You may be called upon to occasionally defend your value. But how far up the chain must one go before one really is judged by performance?
Quite high, and even then busyness can be used an a substitute for profitability in many situations.
Our culture's decline in vigor and profitability can be attributed to many things; surely one of them must be that we no longer focus on results, but on endless activity. Somewhere, we forgot that results are not implied by activity, there is an art and a discipline to making 'work' productive. So we rush, and hurry, and honk impatiently at slower drivers, and make frantic glances to see whether we might secure some nearer place in line. We take billions of dollars of subscription medications, to cure our stress-related illnesses, but any suggestion that we slow down and achieve meaningful lives amid the chaos is treated with contempt. What would other people think?
Contrast this to the attitude of Jesus. He "withdrew to a solitary place" to spend time with His Father. He did not turn away the 'distraction' of the children, but commanded the disciples to bring them before Him. He had time for every person who needed Him, yet somehow, He lived an earthly life more meaningful than any other person could hope for, and accomplished the full purpose of God.
As Christians, we have fallen after the world's pattern of busyness with a vengeance. We take all the world's distractions, and then try to cram church, ministry, and "God time" in amongst them.
Little wonder we find that it often falls through the cracks.
If God is God, and He Is, He must take priority. Not all of our pursuits are valueless or evil, but let them fall as they may; He must be first.
Lord, I am guilty of this sin more perhaps than any who will read this. May I make you my immovable priority in every day as I have made you in my life's plans. Amen.
-Joseph
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Wherever I May Roam
I have been back living in America for 253 days and counting.
Why does this feel like such a long time?
My life took an interesting turn a few years back. Since then, I have been out of the country every year. First Taiwan. Then Taiwan again. Then Mexico. Then Taiwan again, then Taiwan again for a year, then while there, Macau, then the Philippines, then Macau again, then China, then back to the US, then to Mexico again, and soon, Taiwan for the 5th time.
Seeing a pattern? I love travelling, and I really love Taiwan. (我真的愛台灣!)
The life of travel appeals to me in many ways. How can it have become part of my life so quickly? My family didn't travel, and my parents have very little experience out of the country.
Somehow, on my first trip to Taiwan, something was unlocked inside of me, that developed more and more with each subsequent trip out of the country. Now I feel at home in international airports, like living out of a suitcase rather more than from a wardrobe, miss my change drawer with several currencies prepared against visa trips, and suspect my passport may be be in need of extra pages before it expires.
And this is only the beginning.
I have some cursory knowledge of Chinese East Asia, and to a lesser extent Mexico.
Europe, the Middle East, Africa, South America, remain totally unexplored.
Will I get there? I hope so. One might say that it's simply a matter of going, but time and funds are always a factor in traveling, and preparing for a life of ministry does not provide one with either in excess.
But soon I will be back in Taiwan. Even though it's merely for two weeks, I'm so excited.
Taiwan feels like home, in an odd way. Not home as in the place you have spent most of your life, but more like a place you moved from when a small child, and that stirs emotions in you on your return.
I long to be there, especially in Taipei again, my adopted home city. The morning sandwich shops, the sun rising over the encircling mountains, the 101 looming hazily on the horizon, the little moon-walking men on the crosswalk lights, the MRT, "surfing" the MRT, the omnipresent 7-11's with their frosty breath in the summer, the orange bottled milk tea available at those 7-11's, catching buses at the last minute, losing myself among quiet streets, studying Chinese, trying out new phrases and listening for them in random conversations on the bus, meeting my friends randomly for lunch or dinner, crowded nightmarkets with their unique lights, colors, smells, and sounds, traveling down the east and west coasts, so different and yet so uniquely Taiwanese, Dan Shui in the rain, Nantou in the mist, the green fields of Da Jia in the summer, the waterfalls of I-lan, the black sand at Da Xi on the east coast with Turtle Island visible at sea, Taroko Gorge in Hualien, with the leaping fish rock and the water cave, small beach towns and high mountain hamlets, downtown Taipei with christmas lights, the wind at the top of the 101 building, the sun on the roof of my apartment, Yong Kang street and the restaurant Lao Bans who knew me on sight, Sababas and the online scrabble game that won me a free drink there, Jin Ji Yuan, that yellow dumpling place, passion fruit red tea, bubble tea, Oolong tea with pocky, Green tea with chocolate, Coffee in Dante's downstairs with my Chinese textbook, Church on Sunday mornings, lunch at church after the service was over, teaching English to Taiwanese students, writing my own lessons, translating for friends who knew even less Chinese than I did, live music in the park near my home, the crowds in the main transit station at rush hour, my attempt to hack my yo-yo card so it would fit in my watch (it will work next time!), the appreciative smiles of Taiwanese people when they realized I really did love their country, the joy that filled every day, the thrill of living abroad that somehow never diminished, my friends, my acquaintances, my co-workers, my God...
All this is but a sample. I could write pages. I could describe days and days of experiences that I will never forget, or that will become blended with time into a happy memory of a year unlike any other.
But one cannot go back, one can only move forward. It is my determination that each part of my life will have unique meaning, without which my life as a whole would be incomplete, so that I can never truly say the best of my life is behind me.
Lord Willing, it shall be so.
I will not say that Taiwan lies ahead of me, because that knowledge is not given to me. I can strive towards a goal, but I cannot guarantee that I will reach it, or even if it is the goal to which God is moving me. The disciples rowed with all their might against a storm towards the place Jesus told them to go, so that they might meet Him on the water, and He might send them to a different place.
So now I am rowing towards that goal, and we shall see where I end up.
God already knows, and He will inform me in His good time.
Meanwhile, I intend to enjoy the journey.
-Joseph
Why does this feel like such a long time?
My life took an interesting turn a few years back. Since then, I have been out of the country every year. First Taiwan. Then Taiwan again. Then Mexico. Then Taiwan again, then Taiwan again for a year, then while there, Macau, then the Philippines, then Macau again, then China, then back to the US, then to Mexico again, and soon, Taiwan for the 5th time.
Seeing a pattern? I love travelling, and I really love Taiwan. (我真的愛台灣!)
The life of travel appeals to me in many ways. How can it have become part of my life so quickly? My family didn't travel, and my parents have very little experience out of the country.
Somehow, on my first trip to Taiwan, something was unlocked inside of me, that developed more and more with each subsequent trip out of the country. Now I feel at home in international airports, like living out of a suitcase rather more than from a wardrobe, miss my change drawer with several currencies prepared against visa trips, and suspect my passport may be be in need of extra pages before it expires.
And this is only the beginning.
I have some cursory knowledge of Chinese East Asia, and to a lesser extent Mexico.
Europe, the Middle East, Africa, South America, remain totally unexplored.
Will I get there? I hope so. One might say that it's simply a matter of going, but time and funds are always a factor in traveling, and preparing for a life of ministry does not provide one with either in excess.
But soon I will be back in Taiwan. Even though it's merely for two weeks, I'm so excited.
Taiwan feels like home, in an odd way. Not home as in the place you have spent most of your life, but more like a place you moved from when a small child, and that stirs emotions in you on your return.
I long to be there, especially in Taipei again, my adopted home city. The morning sandwich shops, the sun rising over the encircling mountains, the 101 looming hazily on the horizon, the little moon-walking men on the crosswalk lights, the MRT, "surfing" the MRT, the omnipresent 7-11's with their frosty breath in the summer, the orange bottled milk tea available at those 7-11's, catching buses at the last minute, losing myself among quiet streets, studying Chinese, trying out new phrases and listening for them in random conversations on the bus, meeting my friends randomly for lunch or dinner, crowded nightmarkets with their unique lights, colors, smells, and sounds, traveling down the east and west coasts, so different and yet so uniquely Taiwanese, Dan Shui in the rain, Nantou in the mist, the green fields of Da Jia in the summer, the waterfalls of I-lan, the black sand at Da Xi on the east coast with Turtle Island visible at sea, Taroko Gorge in Hualien, with the leaping fish rock and the water cave, small beach towns and high mountain hamlets, downtown Taipei with christmas lights, the wind at the top of the 101 building, the sun on the roof of my apartment, Yong Kang street and the restaurant Lao Bans who knew me on sight, Sababas and the online scrabble game that won me a free drink there, Jin Ji Yuan, that yellow dumpling place, passion fruit red tea, bubble tea, Oolong tea with pocky, Green tea with chocolate, Coffee in Dante's downstairs with my Chinese textbook, Church on Sunday mornings, lunch at church after the service was over, teaching English to Taiwanese students, writing my own lessons, translating for friends who knew even less Chinese than I did, live music in the park near my home, the crowds in the main transit station at rush hour, my attempt to hack my yo-yo card so it would fit in my watch (it will work next time!), the appreciative smiles of Taiwanese people when they realized I really did love their country, the joy that filled every day, the thrill of living abroad that somehow never diminished, my friends, my acquaintances, my co-workers, my God...
All this is but a sample. I could write pages. I could describe days and days of experiences that I will never forget, or that will become blended with time into a happy memory of a year unlike any other.
But one cannot go back, one can only move forward. It is my determination that each part of my life will have unique meaning, without which my life as a whole would be incomplete, so that I can never truly say the best of my life is behind me.
Lord Willing, it shall be so.
I will not say that Taiwan lies ahead of me, because that knowledge is not given to me. I can strive towards a goal, but I cannot guarantee that I will reach it, or even if it is the goal to which God is moving me. The disciples rowed with all their might against a storm towards the place Jesus told them to go, so that they might meet Him on the water, and He might send them to a different place.
So now I am rowing towards that goal, and we shall see where I end up.
God already knows, and He will inform me in His good time.
Meanwhile, I intend to enjoy the journey.
-Joseph
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Dynamic Unequivalency
It is my determination to not be a Bible translation/adaptation snob.
There are uses for most versions of the Bible, from simply-worded adaptations for new believers who are not familiar with common Christian terminology, to heavily annotated study Bibles designed to be used in conjunction with multi-volume concordances. (This grace does not extend to gender-neutralized adaptations; for those who wish to neutralize gender in violation of both Biblical, natural, and grammatical principles, I believe Paul had some choice words in Galatians 5 which might apply rather well.)
However, I admit that when possible, I prefer as little dynamic equivalency as possible.
I realize that some things in ancient Hebrew simply have no English equivalent, and thus must be taken over as a thought and not word-for-word, but in the NIV, for example, we have thought-for-thought taken so far that the original meaning can become obscured.
In a study of John I led a few years ago, we often came across places where Jesus says or does things that seem paradoxial. Not being eastern in our philosophy, we feel that these apparent paradoxes should be resolved, and that's where the trouble starts. When the NIV translators, with good and God-glorifying intentions I have absolutely no doubt, decided to smooth over a few passages by adding or changing a word here or there, they removed some of the "punch" of Jesus' words, and in a few cases nearly obscured the original meaning altogether.
One example we ran across was Jesus' first miracle, at the wedding in Cana.
When Mary asks Jesus to help, Jesus' response, in the NIV, is as follows:
"Dear woman, why do you involve me?" Jesus replied, "My time has not yet come."
Contrast this to His more literal reply in the ESV:
And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come."
The "Dear" is an addition. There is no "Dear" in Hebrew.
At this point, some are quick to rush in.
"But obviously Jesus wouldn't have been rude to His mother, so He must have meant it in a endearing way." Or more subtly, "'Woman' was considered a term of endearment in Hebrew culture at the time, so adding 'Dear' is just clarifying that for modern readers."
That may be so. But the fact remains that Jesus said "Woman".
If you want to know why He said it that way, go do some research. You might learn some things you wouldn't have otherwise. But don't change the Bible on the off-chance that some people might be confused about Jesus' philial piety, please.
The root of the issue is that we want Jesus to conform to our standards of morality.
"Oh, He wouldn't have done/said/meant that, so let's clarify it by adding something"
Jesus IS morality. He and the Father are One, and the Father is the Great I Am.
And all of creation has been placed specifically under His dominion. All laws that are true and binding have their source in Him.
We have no call to go trying to conform Him to our understanding of morality and right behavior.
The duty of any Bible translator is to as accurately as humanly possible recreate exactly what Christ said and did. If He did something that was apparently paradoxical, perhaps He intended it to be that way?
In the before-mentioned John study, we uncovered much valuable information by looking at these apparent paradoxes. What we found is that every time there is what appears to be a paradox, Jesus is being consistent, and we are being inconsistent. We were forced to change our thinking as a result, and learned a great deal.
Had we only had a dynamic equivalency text for study purposes, that learning would have been impossible, as the confusing portions would have all been glossed over, leaving us with something true, but less extensive, and certainly less mind-renewing.
As for me, I like my Bible with the crusts still on.
Don't give me the rounded-off edges of truth, please, it's demeaning to God and all of us to say that He didn't know what He was doing when He said that, or that we are not intelligent enough to figure it out.
-Joseph
PS: Did I mention I was excited that I'll be learning to read the Bible in its original languages soon? Greek and Hebrew, here I come...
There are uses for most versions of the Bible, from simply-worded adaptations for new believers who are not familiar with common Christian terminology, to heavily annotated study Bibles designed to be used in conjunction with multi-volume concordances. (This grace does not extend to gender-neutralized adaptations; for those who wish to neutralize gender in violation of both Biblical, natural, and grammatical principles, I believe Paul had some choice words in Galatians 5 which might apply rather well.)
However, I admit that when possible, I prefer as little dynamic equivalency as possible.
I realize that some things in ancient Hebrew simply have no English equivalent, and thus must be taken over as a thought and not word-for-word, but in the NIV, for example, we have thought-for-thought taken so far that the original meaning can become obscured.
In a study of John I led a few years ago, we often came across places where Jesus says or does things that seem paradoxial. Not being eastern in our philosophy, we feel that these apparent paradoxes should be resolved, and that's where the trouble starts. When the NIV translators, with good and God-glorifying intentions I have absolutely no doubt, decided to smooth over a few passages by adding or changing a word here or there, they removed some of the "punch" of Jesus' words, and in a few cases nearly obscured the original meaning altogether.
One example we ran across was Jesus' first miracle, at the wedding in Cana.
When Mary asks Jesus to help, Jesus' response, in the NIV, is as follows:
"Dear woman, why do you involve me?" Jesus replied, "My time has not yet come."
Contrast this to His more literal reply in the ESV:
And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come."
The "Dear" is an addition. There is no "Dear" in Hebrew.
At this point, some are quick to rush in.
"But obviously Jesus wouldn't have been rude to His mother, so He must have meant it in a endearing way." Or more subtly, "'Woman' was considered a term of endearment in Hebrew culture at the time, so adding 'Dear' is just clarifying that for modern readers."
That may be so. But the fact remains that Jesus said "Woman".
If you want to know why He said it that way, go do some research. You might learn some things you wouldn't have otherwise. But don't change the Bible on the off-chance that some people might be confused about Jesus' philial piety, please.
The root of the issue is that we want Jesus to conform to our standards of morality.
"Oh, He wouldn't have done/said/meant that, so let's clarify it by adding something"
Jesus IS morality. He and the Father are One, and the Father is the Great I Am.
And all of creation has been placed specifically under His dominion. All laws that are true and binding have their source in Him.
We have no call to go trying to conform Him to our understanding of morality and right behavior.
The duty of any Bible translator is to as accurately as humanly possible recreate exactly what Christ said and did. If He did something that was apparently paradoxical, perhaps He intended it to be that way?
In the before-mentioned John study, we uncovered much valuable information by looking at these apparent paradoxes. What we found is that every time there is what appears to be a paradox, Jesus is being consistent, and we are being inconsistent. We were forced to change our thinking as a result, and learned a great deal.
Had we only had a dynamic equivalency text for study purposes, that learning would have been impossible, as the confusing portions would have all been glossed over, leaving us with something true, but less extensive, and certainly less mind-renewing.
As for me, I like my Bible with the crusts still on.
Don't give me the rounded-off edges of truth, please, it's demeaning to God and all of us to say that He didn't know what He was doing when He said that, or that we are not intelligent enough to figure it out.
-Joseph
PS: Did I mention I was excited that I'll be learning to read the Bible in its original languages soon? Greek and Hebrew, here I come...
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Mind Games
Working hard these past couple weeks. What follows is merely an attempt to achieve catharsis through writing, so I apologize for what will sound very much like whining, and very unlike anything useful or edifying.
I seem to have a defect in my character, which is that while I am often very effective at tasks I have set my mind to, every so often I find myself nearly incapable of setting my mind to something, which makes it very difficult for me to accomplish.
The other side of this is that to do something well, I need to set my mind to it.
This means setting aside a certain amount of mental overhead, which varies depending on how natural the task is to me. Some things I can fully invest in, with enjoyment and little or no mental strain. Other things can require a constant effort to maintain focus, which in turn reduces mental energy available for other tasks.
My task of late has been my temporary job working out on the yard at the local branch of a company for which my father manages several offices.
The shift is 7AM to 3:30PM, if I don't go over, (we often do, to reach a good stopping point for the day, which means I have flex hours in case I can't make a full day at some point, due to illness or bad weather) which means I have to wake up at 5 or 5:30 every morning, and have 8 hours of manual labor (with 30min for lunch) every day, Monday to Friday.
That should be pretty straightforward, and it is, exhaustingly so.
Having to more or less forcibly shut off my brain for most of the day requires constant effort, as its natural state is to be spinning wildly. And then at the end of the day, I find waking it back up is difficult. My mind, consistently repressed, wishes to remain adapted to the new routine.
The physical side is reasonably laborious, but nothing like the strain of having to constantly pay attention to a mostly unchanging task. The best analogy I can think of is being required to watch water boil, for 8 hours a day, instantly removing the pot at precisely the boiling point and replacing it with a fresh one. Except that the pots boil at random speeds, requiring constant attention.
An additional difficulty is the very nature of the task to which I have been assigned.
While I won't go into excessive detail, it is essentially equivalent to being told to dig a hole and fill it in, or move a pile of dirt from here to there, then back.
My goal when starting any task is to finish it, and if possible, finish it in such a way that it never needs to be tackled again, leaving future energies for other tasks.
Now I find myself working almost for work's sake. If not for the purpose for which I am saving money, it would indeed be labor for labor's sake, considering my degree would allow me to work in a different field entirely, for a much higher hourly rate.
But I have already forsaken the path of personal prosperity, and each day I stay away from my career path is a little of my bridge burnt behind me.
I cannot fully feel the impact of this yet, I know. I'm young, healthy, and have no family or other dependents that would feel the stress of financial shortfalls. Later in life, if God permits me more decades, I will begin to fully realize the implications of my decisions now.
I have truly trusted God now, but I will have no choice but to fully trust Him then, when the funds run short and I'm not as flexible as I am now.
But to say it will be worth it is either to greatly understate, or to misunderstand the scenario entirely. Life is wasted when it is not spent in pursuit of God's plan and for His glory.
For a believer, this is what life is. Not to give God a substantial piece of 'your' time, but to surrender your whole life, all areas, all resources, all time, to the one to whom you owe your soul.
My life is a small thing to give the One who gave it to me, then died to give it anew, but it is all I have to give, and He knows that it is His.
So when I find myself writhing in the mental imprisonment of mostly mindless drudgery, I have to kick start myself a little. This is not for me, and it's not about me either. God who gave me my brain will keep it active enough to serve Him, and that is enough. Or should be. I have come so far, but only reached the top of the first foothill. Looking back, I can see myriads of people who will sadly never know the rewards of making it this far, but looking ahead, I see the mountain ranges yet to be crossed. What joys, pains, and glories lie in those sunny peaks and dark ravines, God knows. I do not. But I am impatient to be among them. In His time, in His time.
-Joseph
I seem to have a defect in my character, which is that while I am often very effective at tasks I have set my mind to, every so often I find myself nearly incapable of setting my mind to something, which makes it very difficult for me to accomplish.
The other side of this is that to do something well, I need to set my mind to it.
This means setting aside a certain amount of mental overhead, which varies depending on how natural the task is to me. Some things I can fully invest in, with enjoyment and little or no mental strain. Other things can require a constant effort to maintain focus, which in turn reduces mental energy available for other tasks.
My task of late has been my temporary job working out on the yard at the local branch of a company for which my father manages several offices.
The shift is 7AM to 3:30PM, if I don't go over, (we often do, to reach a good stopping point for the day, which means I have flex hours in case I can't make a full day at some point, due to illness or bad weather) which means I have to wake up at 5 or 5:30 every morning, and have 8 hours of manual labor (with 30min for lunch) every day, Monday to Friday.
That should be pretty straightforward, and it is, exhaustingly so.
Having to more or less forcibly shut off my brain for most of the day requires constant effort, as its natural state is to be spinning wildly. And then at the end of the day, I find waking it back up is difficult. My mind, consistently repressed, wishes to remain adapted to the new routine.
The physical side is reasonably laborious, but nothing like the strain of having to constantly pay attention to a mostly unchanging task. The best analogy I can think of is being required to watch water boil, for 8 hours a day, instantly removing the pot at precisely the boiling point and replacing it with a fresh one. Except that the pots boil at random speeds, requiring constant attention.
An additional difficulty is the very nature of the task to which I have been assigned.
While I won't go into excessive detail, it is essentially equivalent to being told to dig a hole and fill it in, or move a pile of dirt from here to there, then back.
My goal when starting any task is to finish it, and if possible, finish it in such a way that it never needs to be tackled again, leaving future energies for other tasks.
Now I find myself working almost for work's sake. If not for the purpose for which I am saving money, it would indeed be labor for labor's sake, considering my degree would allow me to work in a different field entirely, for a much higher hourly rate.
But I have already forsaken the path of personal prosperity, and each day I stay away from my career path is a little of my bridge burnt behind me.
I cannot fully feel the impact of this yet, I know. I'm young, healthy, and have no family or other dependents that would feel the stress of financial shortfalls. Later in life, if God permits me more decades, I will begin to fully realize the implications of my decisions now.
I have truly trusted God now, but I will have no choice but to fully trust Him then, when the funds run short and I'm not as flexible as I am now.
But to say it will be worth it is either to greatly understate, or to misunderstand the scenario entirely. Life is wasted when it is not spent in pursuit of God's plan and for His glory.
For a believer, this is what life is. Not to give God a substantial piece of 'your' time, but to surrender your whole life, all areas, all resources, all time, to the one to whom you owe your soul.
My life is a small thing to give the One who gave it to me, then died to give it anew, but it is all I have to give, and He knows that it is His.
So when I find myself writhing in the mental imprisonment of mostly mindless drudgery, I have to kick start myself a little. This is not for me, and it's not about me either. God who gave me my brain will keep it active enough to serve Him, and that is enough. Or should be. I have come so far, but only reached the top of the first foothill. Looking back, I can see myriads of people who will sadly never know the rewards of making it this far, but looking ahead, I see the mountain ranges yet to be crossed. What joys, pains, and glories lie in those sunny peaks and dark ravines, God knows. I do not. But I am impatient to be among them. In His time, in His time.
-Joseph
Thursday, May 28, 2009
A Prevenient Witness
Just a short thought today.
The faith crises in my life, when they occur (seemingly less and less often, thanks to Him), are rarely about a specific attribute of God, or about Jesus' death or resurrection.
Instead I find myself tempted to doubtfully wonder, if I will wake up one day and realize that the entire Theistic viewpoint was a mental construct.
As an engineer by trade, living in a secular humanist society, that seems to be the most forceful attack on faith for me. It's not a question of the specifics; given the existence of God as He has declared Himself to be in His Word, the rest all follows naturally, and can be to some extent logically inferred. There is then merely the issue of living as we have been called to live, day by day.
In Taiwan, I was hit pretty hard on this front, living among literally millions of people for whom the pressing issue of Christ's identity and the nature of God (in the Biblical sense of GOD) was neither something to viciously attack or gratefully accept, but simply irrelevant.
Of course, I know my Redeemer, and even if I had sinfully accepted a lie for a time, He would have called me back. As it was, through the crucible of that time, my identity in Christ was established so firmly for me, that I doubt I will ever be hit so hard from that angle again.
My existence, as I see it, is bound up in this: that I am a child of God.
Take God away from my world view, and there is simply nothing left. He is the source and center of all that is, and I am incapable of viewing the world otherwise.
One thing that He has consistently used to strengthen my faith is the beauty of His creation.
It's hard for me to put my thoughts on it into words, but this world is very... contrived. It's not the kind of place that just happens, it's a very carefully constructed home for us.
Roaming through space, through regions devoid of life far too immense to imagine or even express metaphorically, we suddenly come to a planet perfectly located, angled, and situated for sustaining life. And not just life, but abundant, beautiful life, in a self-sustaining system of unbelievable intricacy and complexity.
Intelligent Design proponents are fond of using the "Watchmaker Theory" to express this thought, but to me, it's not so much like finding a wrist watch in the desert, as, say, New York City.
To imagine that even the basic laws of physics emerged from nothingness is totally absurd.
How can a law exist without a law-giver? We know of no example of order ever coming from disorder. Outside energy must be imposed on the system in order to impose order.
Even atheist physicists, while denying a personal God, must admit that the universe had an initiator of some kind. (the "uncaused cause") Of course, they are unwilling to pursue this further, else their atheism must be short-lived.
But when we look at the world, we do not see a cold, abstract force driving physics, but a personal, artistic touch. Every majestic picture the Hubble sends back is God leaving man "without excuse".
Every time I look out a window, my faith in God is strengthened. A tree alone is a testament to His glory, not to mention a sunrise. And yet people live under this unbelievable, ever-changing visual display we call "the sky", and never seem to notice it, or wonder why it's a thing we have.
To borrow a concept from Lewis, the sky is something you couldn't have imagined.
If the Mona Lisa suddenly appeared on your living room wall, you would no doubt be surprised.
And you would probably not accept this situation as normal, even if it continued for weeks.
That is how I feel about nature. I don't take it for granted, I am continually astonished by it. It, and so many other things. I walk around taking everything in, and wondering why I seem to be the only one surprised to find it there.
Perhaps this is why I sometimes feel as though there is some fundamental difference between myself and almost everyone I know, to the point that there have been times in my life where I felt I was less like a human and more like something sent in from the outside to observe.
Most people seem to have accepted the world they have found themselves in, as if it couldn't have been different. It could have. It could have been drastically different. The miracle is that it is exactly as it is, and I live in continual amazement of that fact.
God was under no requirements to make the world as beautiful as it is. It could have been a drab, flat, uninspiring place, as some small pockets of it are, and we would hardly be in a position to complain about that. But He made mountains, oceans, canyons, volcanoes, coral reefs, rain forests, deserts, billions of creatures in staggering complexity, each one a work of art, together composing the life on this perfectly oriented ball of rock that orbits the raging nuclear explosion in space we call the sun, because THAT IS THE KIND OF GOD HE IS.
-Joseph
The faith crises in my life, when they occur (seemingly less and less often, thanks to Him), are rarely about a specific attribute of God, or about Jesus' death or resurrection.
Instead I find myself tempted to doubtfully wonder, if I will wake up one day and realize that the entire Theistic viewpoint was a mental construct.
As an engineer by trade, living in a secular humanist society, that seems to be the most forceful attack on faith for me. It's not a question of the specifics; given the existence of God as He has declared Himself to be in His Word, the rest all follows naturally, and can be to some extent logically inferred. There is then merely the issue of living as we have been called to live, day by day.
In Taiwan, I was hit pretty hard on this front, living among literally millions of people for whom the pressing issue of Christ's identity and the nature of God (in the Biblical sense of GOD) was neither something to viciously attack or gratefully accept, but simply irrelevant.
Of course, I know my Redeemer, and even if I had sinfully accepted a lie for a time, He would have called me back. As it was, through the crucible of that time, my identity in Christ was established so firmly for me, that I doubt I will ever be hit so hard from that angle again.
My existence, as I see it, is bound up in this: that I am a child of God.
Take God away from my world view, and there is simply nothing left. He is the source and center of all that is, and I am incapable of viewing the world otherwise.
One thing that He has consistently used to strengthen my faith is the beauty of His creation.
It's hard for me to put my thoughts on it into words, but this world is very... contrived. It's not the kind of place that just happens, it's a very carefully constructed home for us.
Roaming through space, through regions devoid of life far too immense to imagine or even express metaphorically, we suddenly come to a planet perfectly located, angled, and situated for sustaining life. And not just life, but abundant, beautiful life, in a self-sustaining system of unbelievable intricacy and complexity.
Intelligent Design proponents are fond of using the "Watchmaker Theory" to express this thought, but to me, it's not so much like finding a wrist watch in the desert, as, say, New York City.
To imagine that even the basic laws of physics emerged from nothingness is totally absurd.
How can a law exist without a law-giver? We know of no example of order ever coming from disorder. Outside energy must be imposed on the system in order to impose order.
Even atheist physicists, while denying a personal God, must admit that the universe had an initiator of some kind. (the "uncaused cause") Of course, they are unwilling to pursue this further, else their atheism must be short-lived.
But when we look at the world, we do not see a cold, abstract force driving physics, but a personal, artistic touch. Every majestic picture the Hubble sends back is God leaving man "without excuse".
Every time I look out a window, my faith in God is strengthened. A tree alone is a testament to His glory, not to mention a sunrise. And yet people live under this unbelievable, ever-changing visual display we call "the sky", and never seem to notice it, or wonder why it's a thing we have.
To borrow a concept from Lewis, the sky is something you couldn't have imagined.
If the Mona Lisa suddenly appeared on your living room wall, you would no doubt be surprised.
And you would probably not accept this situation as normal, even if it continued for weeks.
That is how I feel about nature. I don't take it for granted, I am continually astonished by it. It, and so many other things. I walk around taking everything in, and wondering why I seem to be the only one surprised to find it there.
Perhaps this is why I sometimes feel as though there is some fundamental difference between myself and almost everyone I know, to the point that there have been times in my life where I felt I was less like a human and more like something sent in from the outside to observe.
Most people seem to have accepted the world they have found themselves in, as if it couldn't have been different. It could have. It could have been drastically different. The miracle is that it is exactly as it is, and I live in continual amazement of that fact.
God was under no requirements to make the world as beautiful as it is. It could have been a drab, flat, uninspiring place, as some small pockets of it are, and we would hardly be in a position to complain about that. But He made mountains, oceans, canyons, volcanoes, coral reefs, rain forests, deserts, billions of creatures in staggering complexity, each one a work of art, together composing the life on this perfectly oriented ball of rock that orbits the raging nuclear explosion in space we call the sun, because THAT IS THE KIND OF GOD HE IS.
-Joseph
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Thinking out loud
So I will apologize in advance for doing something that I generally dislike reading on other people's blogs, which is referencing things that are going on in life without clarification. It generally leaves the odd feeling that the thoughts are important enough to voice publicly, and yet too private to actually share. (so then, better to keep them to one's self?)
But somehow, as one may infer from the massive outpouring of the innermost thoughts of so many individuals onto the web for anyone in the world to see, we find solace in getting things out when we know people will see it, yet hesitate to fully divulge.
So, Mea Maxima Culpa, I fear I may indulge in this practice today as well.
First, however, I note that my life is changing. Life tends to alternate between periods of continuation and change, I've found. I submit that resisting those periods of change is what leads to a lack of personal growth in many people, yet perhaps some can be forgiven for wishing to stay in their current state.
I was in Taiwan for a year. The length of time tends to pale now in comparison with the significance of the time. A year is not long, and yet so many things can happen in that time.
I could have stayed there, for an indefinite period of time. I would have been very happy.
There are various motivations for this, some altruistic, some godly, and some merely selfish. One personal inclination is to bury myself in the endless, trackless wonder that is the earth, ceaselessly cataloging its wonders, people, realms, and climes. There is enough to be seen and experienced here for many, many lifetimes, let alone however long is allotted to the remainder of mine. I comfort myself in that I will have eternity to explore the new earth, and that despite the common misconceptions of eternity, it will be even much more interesting than this one.
But I did not stay, of course, I returned. There were many good and practical reasons why this should be so, and I do not regret leaving except in a temporary and irresponsible sense.
Now I am taking practical steps to return, but really, can you ever return?
I am going back to Taiwan only in the sense that Taiwan is a geographical location to which I have previously ventured and will (Lord Willing) subsequently again visit.
Save perhaps a short visit in the summer, devoted to work, it will be a few years before I can count on living there again. The people I knew will have experienced those years independently, and some things will have changed. The ever-dynamic cities will have changed, the political landscape will certainly have changed. I will have changed.
So in a sense, one can never "go back". One can only move forward.
And so I do. But with a sense of loss that I feel more keenly every year, it seems.
Life is passing by, and we cannot bring it back. The only One who has the power to do so has placed us in the sort of universe in which this does not occur.
Older people generally mark this passing more anxiously than younger people, as the years seem to fly faster and faster. And yet, they do not. Time passes at exactly the same rate for a 12 years old as it does for a 92 year old. What feels so different about it?
I would submit that most 12 year olds are too busy living life to mark its passing, while for a 92 year old, nearly all of life has already been lived. A good lesson for us all, perhaps, though reflections on life's brevity are certainly healthy if handled in the appropriate manner. I once read the statement that "your senior year of highschool is the best year of your life".
What a depressing thought! Imagine that your entire life from 17ish onwards is merely coasting towards the inevitable grave, with nothing better to look forward to than that which has already come.
But yes. Changes. 3 years ago, I lived in Huntsville. I had my own apartment (shared, but equally payed for), a promising career, a car which I payed cash for, and enough money that, had I cared to spend it, I could have bought a little sailboat, or put money down on a small house.
I also had many friends, a stable environment, no debt, and in short was beginning life after college about as well as anyone does.
Now, I live at home again. My job lies in the past, though thankfully my car still serves me, and the savings that seemed bound to increase every year have parked as they are, with that fateful title of "life" appended as a prefix. Thankfully, still no debt, but now my financial obligations for seminary are such that without help of my family in Christ, debt would be all but inevitable.
But God is great. Could I exchange the past two years for thrice the income I would have made during that time, I would not even consider doing so. You cannot buy a life, and the life I now live seems nothing less than new. And being entirely other than that of which I could have conceived on my own, this life is clearly something God has determined for me. I have learned quite well part one of the never-ending lesson that the unexpected things God throws at you can lead to results dramatically greater than your own plans.
And yet, now my life seems to be changing again, in as dramatic a way.
I leave this fall for seminary, something that up until a year or two ago I had only contemplated as something I could not imagine myself doing.
When I complete that degree, Lord Willing, I ought to be fairly well-equipped for ministry.
And what ministry will that be? Only He knows. My own plans to return to Taiwan seem godly and reasonable, but so did my plans to be a prosperous engineer who remained active in my church.
And other changes are occuring as well. The "home" country I returned to isn't looking much like home. Our nation is in an unprecedented situation of becoming something entirely other than what the founders intended. And not through defeat by some foreign power, but by the efforts of our own elected leaders, enabled by a generation of Americans who do not understand or appreciate the freedoms they inherited from those who bled for them.
There are those who question how I could go so far away and live in an entirely foreign culture.
Yet surely it's far easier to encounter a different culture far away, where it is expected, and not at your doorstep? I want to ask them instead, how can you passively watch your own country become something foreign? Foreign lands are exactly that, and can be enjoyed as such. Even when they become home, as Taiwan surely to a large extent has, a place that I love and am comfortable in, I do not expect from it the same things that I expect from the nation of my birth.
I have been able to go forth easily, knowing that America lies safely behind.
What if the country I return to as "home" becomes changed to the point of unrecognizability?
I say "what if", but this is already occurring.
And still other changes. Certain elements that have long been absent in my life have now flickered in and out of it. I find the continuum in which I have lived does not possess the inertia I thought it did. Soon instead of simply continuing in it, it will be my own energy and will which sustains it. What had simply been the way things were is now becoming something I must actively choose to maintain. Certainly, it can be so, but do I want that? Does God want that?
I am not an optimist. Things will happen in my life either because God allows me to cause them, either by action or inaction, or because God intervened and caused them in spite of my efforts.
Nothing happens in life for any other reason. Hoping very much that it will be better than it is likely to be may be a helpful way for some people to maintain good spirits, but it certainly seems like an invitation to disappointment to me. If I have reason to hope, it is because God has blessed me beyond anything I could imagine, not because "life is good". Life is not good, life is Christ, and to die is gain. Yet my prayer is that God keeps me alive for as long as He has a purpose for me.
My life is forfeit to Him who ransomed it, and He teaches me increasingly how much this is true.
"So that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."
Why can't Christians see that? Why are they hell-bent (wording intentional) on pursuing their own lives in their own way? Why do they see it as their time, or at best a power-sharing agreement, not God's time, which He created and loans to us? Yet I am the same. Every day, every day, I begrudge God what is rightfully His.
And somehow on those times when I come before Him, so much less often than He has infinite right to claim, He meets me there and blesses me. How can it be so?
The only explanation is love. As unfathomable as it may seen, God loves what is surely unlovable but for that fact. We say that we love God because God loves us, but it must also be true that we can only be loved by anyone because God loves us.
That is my only hope, as my life changes and I begin to dance to stay upright as the earth shifts beneath me, and my deepest hopes for my life become unsure, even irrelevant.
Somehow God actually loves me, I who surely know how unloveable a person I am.
There is literally no way I can conceive of repaying that love. Even a life of total, perfect service is only the honor due Him. It does not even begin to repay a debt that we are no more capable of paying than of creating ourselves.
All is Gift.
-Joseph
But somehow, as one may infer from the massive outpouring of the innermost thoughts of so many individuals onto the web for anyone in the world to see, we find solace in getting things out when we know people will see it, yet hesitate to fully divulge.
So, Mea Maxima Culpa, I fear I may indulge in this practice today as well.
First, however, I note that my life is changing. Life tends to alternate between periods of continuation and change, I've found. I submit that resisting those periods of change is what leads to a lack of personal growth in many people, yet perhaps some can be forgiven for wishing to stay in their current state.
I was in Taiwan for a year. The length of time tends to pale now in comparison with the significance of the time. A year is not long, and yet so many things can happen in that time.
I could have stayed there, for an indefinite period of time. I would have been very happy.
There are various motivations for this, some altruistic, some godly, and some merely selfish. One personal inclination is to bury myself in the endless, trackless wonder that is the earth, ceaselessly cataloging its wonders, people, realms, and climes. There is enough to be seen and experienced here for many, many lifetimes, let alone however long is allotted to the remainder of mine. I comfort myself in that I will have eternity to explore the new earth, and that despite the common misconceptions of eternity, it will be even much more interesting than this one.
But I did not stay, of course, I returned. There were many good and practical reasons why this should be so, and I do not regret leaving except in a temporary and irresponsible sense.
Now I am taking practical steps to return, but really, can you ever return?
I am going back to Taiwan only in the sense that Taiwan is a geographical location to which I have previously ventured and will (Lord Willing) subsequently again visit.
Save perhaps a short visit in the summer, devoted to work, it will be a few years before I can count on living there again. The people I knew will have experienced those years independently, and some things will have changed. The ever-dynamic cities will have changed, the political landscape will certainly have changed. I will have changed.
So in a sense, one can never "go back". One can only move forward.
And so I do. But with a sense of loss that I feel more keenly every year, it seems.
Life is passing by, and we cannot bring it back. The only One who has the power to do so has placed us in the sort of universe in which this does not occur.
Older people generally mark this passing more anxiously than younger people, as the years seem to fly faster and faster. And yet, they do not. Time passes at exactly the same rate for a 12 years old as it does for a 92 year old. What feels so different about it?
I would submit that most 12 year olds are too busy living life to mark its passing, while for a 92 year old, nearly all of life has already been lived. A good lesson for us all, perhaps, though reflections on life's brevity are certainly healthy if handled in the appropriate manner. I once read the statement that "your senior year of highschool is the best year of your life".
What a depressing thought! Imagine that your entire life from 17ish onwards is merely coasting towards the inevitable grave, with nothing better to look forward to than that which has already come.
But yes. Changes. 3 years ago, I lived in Huntsville. I had my own apartment (shared, but equally payed for), a promising career, a car which I payed cash for, and enough money that, had I cared to spend it, I could have bought a little sailboat, or put money down on a small house.
I also had many friends, a stable environment, no debt, and in short was beginning life after college about as well as anyone does.
Now, I live at home again. My job lies in the past, though thankfully my car still serves me, and the savings that seemed bound to increase every year have parked as they are, with that fateful title of "life" appended as a prefix. Thankfully, still no debt, but now my financial obligations for seminary are such that without help of my family in Christ, debt would be all but inevitable.
But God is great. Could I exchange the past two years for thrice the income I would have made during that time, I would not even consider doing so. You cannot buy a life, and the life I now live seems nothing less than new. And being entirely other than that of which I could have conceived on my own, this life is clearly something God has determined for me. I have learned quite well part one of the never-ending lesson that the unexpected things God throws at you can lead to results dramatically greater than your own plans.
And yet, now my life seems to be changing again, in as dramatic a way.
I leave this fall for seminary, something that up until a year or two ago I had only contemplated as something I could not imagine myself doing.
When I complete that degree, Lord Willing, I ought to be fairly well-equipped for ministry.
And what ministry will that be? Only He knows. My own plans to return to Taiwan seem godly and reasonable, but so did my plans to be a prosperous engineer who remained active in my church.
And other changes are occuring as well. The "home" country I returned to isn't looking much like home. Our nation is in an unprecedented situation of becoming something entirely other than what the founders intended. And not through defeat by some foreign power, but by the efforts of our own elected leaders, enabled by a generation of Americans who do not understand or appreciate the freedoms they inherited from those who bled for them.
There are those who question how I could go so far away and live in an entirely foreign culture.
Yet surely it's far easier to encounter a different culture far away, where it is expected, and not at your doorstep? I want to ask them instead, how can you passively watch your own country become something foreign? Foreign lands are exactly that, and can be enjoyed as such. Even when they become home, as Taiwan surely to a large extent has, a place that I love and am comfortable in, I do not expect from it the same things that I expect from the nation of my birth.
I have been able to go forth easily, knowing that America lies safely behind.
What if the country I return to as "home" becomes changed to the point of unrecognizability?
I say "what if", but this is already occurring.
And still other changes. Certain elements that have long been absent in my life have now flickered in and out of it. I find the continuum in which I have lived does not possess the inertia I thought it did. Soon instead of simply continuing in it, it will be my own energy and will which sustains it. What had simply been the way things were is now becoming something I must actively choose to maintain. Certainly, it can be so, but do I want that? Does God want that?
I am not an optimist. Things will happen in my life either because God allows me to cause them, either by action or inaction, or because God intervened and caused them in spite of my efforts.
Nothing happens in life for any other reason. Hoping very much that it will be better than it is likely to be may be a helpful way for some people to maintain good spirits, but it certainly seems like an invitation to disappointment to me. If I have reason to hope, it is because God has blessed me beyond anything I could imagine, not because "life is good". Life is not good, life is Christ, and to die is gain. Yet my prayer is that God keeps me alive for as long as He has a purpose for me.
My life is forfeit to Him who ransomed it, and He teaches me increasingly how much this is true.
"So that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."
Why can't Christians see that? Why are they hell-bent (wording intentional) on pursuing their own lives in their own way? Why do they see it as their time, or at best a power-sharing agreement, not God's time, which He created and loans to us? Yet I am the same. Every day, every day, I begrudge God what is rightfully His.
And somehow on those times when I come before Him, so much less often than He has infinite right to claim, He meets me there and blesses me. How can it be so?
The only explanation is love. As unfathomable as it may seen, God loves what is surely unlovable but for that fact. We say that we love God because God loves us, but it must also be true that we can only be loved by anyone because God loves us.
That is my only hope, as my life changes and I begin to dance to stay upright as the earth shifts beneath me, and my deepest hopes for my life become unsure, even irrelevant.
Somehow God actually loves me, I who surely know how unloveable a person I am.
There is literally no way I can conceive of repaying that love. Even a life of total, perfect service is only the honor due Him. It does not even begin to repay a debt that we are no more capable of paying than of creating ourselves.
All is Gift.
-Joseph
Friday, February 27, 2009
A Moment in Time
Well, I had all but abandoned this, but evidently people do still stumble across it, so I guess it doesn't hurt to update it now and then.
It has been a long time since I wrote a personal article, my writings have mostly been increasingly on my political blog. But indeed, much has happened since I last wrote in here. It's been almost exactly a year now, at that time I was in Taiwan, roughly 4 months in, I guess.
The following 8 months were amazing, but that story has been told, in both words and pictures, elsewhere. Suffice to say, it was a life-changing experience, and Taiwan become more like home to me than I could have imagined. My heart is still there, and there are weeks when I miss it every day. My friends, the ministry, English classes, my own Chinese classes, summer camp, (food!), the city, the mountains, the way the sky looked, even just the working out of day to day life there, all of those things resonate so strongly in my mind that occasionally it's as if I expect to open my eyes and see not north Alabama but a Taipei city street.
And yet I am not there, but here. And if I am ever to live there again, it will be through moving forward, not looking back. Seminary lies across my path, as well it should, and I am excited about that prospect. And it will be so much more meaningful learning lessons when I can look ahead and see how they will help me on the field. The thought of taking the Bible directly from Greek and Hebrew to Chinese without having to go through English is an exhilarating one.
I was told by someone on the field, if I'm not careful, travel could become a life-long occupation.
Evidently the fact that I had a money drawer in my Taipei apartment containing small reserves of currency from the surrounding countries was a sign that I was already a hopeless case.
Another sign might be that when I walk into an international airport, I nearly get tingly with the possibilities stretching out before me. Sure, I could continue to my intended destination. But where else could I go? Almost anywhere. Europe beckons tantalizingly, with its staggering cultural diversity, beautiful locales, and the history of western civilization, just for starters. East Asia is a more familiar target, yet still a largely unknown one. The islands of Japan wonder why I have not yet managed to find them, and Korea lies beyond. All of Africa is still for me, as for ancient explorers, the dark continent, and other than a brief foray in Mexico City, Latin America and everything South of the Border waits impatiently.
Steppe, Desert, Rainforest, Tundra... the staggering scope, complexity and beauty still remaining in a long-fallen world indeed leaves man "without excuse". I sometimes think that these Atheists who so boldly, arrogantly and foolishly declare that they have theorized God into nonexistence can never have really stopped and simply watched a sunrise or sunset; I can never witness one without being reminded of the majesty that established a natural world in which this kind of beauty is integral. The delicately balanced function that places our earth among the stars in just such a way to sustain life has also matchless form, form that reflects the Glory of Him who established it.
All this world to see, and yet... if I was presented with a ticket to anywhere, and enough money to stay there a while, I am not sure that I wouldn't go to a place that has stayed with me since the one time I have been there. One day, to celebrate the birthday of a wonderfully interesting lady from South Africa who had a unique ministry in Taipei city, we took a train down the mountainous Taiwanese east coast. There the forested mountains fall away in sea cliffs to the Pacific, leaving in some places only perilous ledges for transportation. The train winds along the coast away from the Taipei metropolis, out through little seaside villages. Finally we arrived at a particularly small one, disembarked into the tiny station, and struck out for the beach.
This is not a Florida beach, by any means. Few beaches in Taiwan, except at the southernmost tip, can boast perfect white sand, or smooth spotless banks. They tend to be brown and cluttered, sometimes polluted.
But this beach is a little different. Some clutter is there until you get closer to the water's edge, including an oddly high number of dead pufferfish laying about, but the sand is soft and black.
The black sand doesn't obscure the water like light sand does, and you can see straight to the bottom. Unlike the sheer mountainsides directly across the traintracks from us, the sand's slope is gradual, and we waded a good ways out. The day had been bright and hot earlier, followed by a rainstorm, but now the sky was overcast, and the tops of the green mountains were shrouded in mist. These days you can usually find at least a few students at any prominent beach, often hundreds of them. Other beaches are more locally known, and have a smaller, more dedicated attendance. Today was no exception, though the cloudy weather had reduced turn-out. There were even a few optimistic college students in wetsuits, trying to ride the small waves on their surf boards. Foreigners seemed to be in low attendance, however. I can recall that there might have been one other foreigner there, otherwise it was just us.
We then floated in the calm sea of that evening, listening to the waves and watching the mist move around the mountain tops that towered above us. If you offered me the chance, I can't promise that's not the first place I'd go.
Later we retired underneath a nearby large concrete military shore emplacement, long since abandoned and covered in Chinese graffiti, and used wooden debris that had collected inside to build a fire. (One guy, who had grown up in a village in Indonesia where his parents were missionaries, used a section of bamboo as a bellows to get the fire going) We boiled some water to make tea, and ate some of the snacks we had brought. A little bread truck playing music pulled up on the small lane behind the bunker, and we bought some sandwiches from it. The evening passed slowly and enjoyably. Finally, as I had to be at church in the morning, I and another guy in a similar situation took our leave, as rain began to pour. We hiked back to the train station, getting soaked in the process, and using our limited Chinese to explain to a couple who had taken refuge from the deluge in a small shrine that we did not, unfortunately, know of any place nearby where umbrellas could be purchased.
Upon reaching the station, we waited for the train a good bit. I was exhausted after a very long day, all that I am telling here was just the latter portion of it. This was the second beach we had been to, the previous one was more well-known, with golden sand. We made a trip up to the 7-11 to buy various things (cold noodles, dried fruit, cookies) which we combined into a decent lunch.
We also explored the nearby town, finding some interesting shops. But perhaps all that can be told another time. Coming back to this portion of the story, eventually the train did arrive, and we boarded. My sandals had caused some serious damage to my feet at this point, but I was too satisfied to care much. We did not, however, go back the entire way by train as we had come.
Instead, we went down the line a couple more stops, getting off at a somewhat more prominent town that had a bus line that ran back to Taipei. Though this was the first time for both of us, we successfully located the bus station, and before long were resting on the bus, on our way back to Taipei.
That was a good day, one that I will remember for a long time.
Will I ever get back there? He knows, and I trust Him.
My plans would never have led me to that place, or the many others I came to know and love.
It is only as a result of His plan for me that I forsook my career and ventured out, and now I cannot conceive of my life without the experiences that followed.
How then can I fail to believe that His ways are superior to mine?
I cannot. And so I press forward.
-Joseph
It has been a long time since I wrote a personal article, my writings have mostly been increasingly on my political blog. But indeed, much has happened since I last wrote in here. It's been almost exactly a year now, at that time I was in Taiwan, roughly 4 months in, I guess.
The following 8 months were amazing, but that story has been told, in both words and pictures, elsewhere. Suffice to say, it was a life-changing experience, and Taiwan become more like home to me than I could have imagined. My heart is still there, and there are weeks when I miss it every day. My friends, the ministry, English classes, my own Chinese classes, summer camp, (food!), the city, the mountains, the way the sky looked, even just the working out of day to day life there, all of those things resonate so strongly in my mind that occasionally it's as if I expect to open my eyes and see not north Alabama but a Taipei city street.
And yet I am not there, but here. And if I am ever to live there again, it will be through moving forward, not looking back. Seminary lies across my path, as well it should, and I am excited about that prospect. And it will be so much more meaningful learning lessons when I can look ahead and see how they will help me on the field. The thought of taking the Bible directly from Greek and Hebrew to Chinese without having to go through English is an exhilarating one.
I was told by someone on the field, if I'm not careful, travel could become a life-long occupation.
Evidently the fact that I had a money drawer in my Taipei apartment containing small reserves of currency from the surrounding countries was a sign that I was already a hopeless case.
Another sign might be that when I walk into an international airport, I nearly get tingly with the possibilities stretching out before me. Sure, I could continue to my intended destination. But where else could I go? Almost anywhere. Europe beckons tantalizingly, with its staggering cultural diversity, beautiful locales, and the history of western civilization, just for starters. East Asia is a more familiar target, yet still a largely unknown one. The islands of Japan wonder why I have not yet managed to find them, and Korea lies beyond. All of Africa is still for me, as for ancient explorers, the dark continent, and other than a brief foray in Mexico City, Latin America and everything South of the Border waits impatiently.
Steppe, Desert, Rainforest, Tundra... the staggering scope, complexity and beauty still remaining in a long-fallen world indeed leaves man "without excuse". I sometimes think that these Atheists who so boldly, arrogantly and foolishly declare that they have theorized God into nonexistence can never have really stopped and simply watched a sunrise or sunset; I can never witness one without being reminded of the majesty that established a natural world in which this kind of beauty is integral. The delicately balanced function that places our earth among the stars in just such a way to sustain life has also matchless form, form that reflects the Glory of Him who established it.
All this world to see, and yet... if I was presented with a ticket to anywhere, and enough money to stay there a while, I am not sure that I wouldn't go to a place that has stayed with me since the one time I have been there. One day, to celebrate the birthday of a wonderfully interesting lady from South Africa who had a unique ministry in Taipei city, we took a train down the mountainous Taiwanese east coast. There the forested mountains fall away in sea cliffs to the Pacific, leaving in some places only perilous ledges for transportation. The train winds along the coast away from the Taipei metropolis, out through little seaside villages. Finally we arrived at a particularly small one, disembarked into the tiny station, and struck out for the beach.
This is not a Florida beach, by any means. Few beaches in Taiwan, except at the southernmost tip, can boast perfect white sand, or smooth spotless banks. They tend to be brown and cluttered, sometimes polluted.
But this beach is a little different. Some clutter is there until you get closer to the water's edge, including an oddly high number of dead pufferfish laying about, but the sand is soft and black.
The black sand doesn't obscure the water like light sand does, and you can see straight to the bottom. Unlike the sheer mountainsides directly across the traintracks from us, the sand's slope is gradual, and we waded a good ways out. The day had been bright and hot earlier, followed by a rainstorm, but now the sky was overcast, and the tops of the green mountains were shrouded in mist. These days you can usually find at least a few students at any prominent beach, often hundreds of them. Other beaches are more locally known, and have a smaller, more dedicated attendance. Today was no exception, though the cloudy weather had reduced turn-out. There were even a few optimistic college students in wetsuits, trying to ride the small waves on their surf boards. Foreigners seemed to be in low attendance, however. I can recall that there might have been one other foreigner there, otherwise it was just us.
We then floated in the calm sea of that evening, listening to the waves and watching the mist move around the mountain tops that towered above us. If you offered me the chance, I can't promise that's not the first place I'd go.
Later we retired underneath a nearby large concrete military shore emplacement, long since abandoned and covered in Chinese graffiti, and used wooden debris that had collected inside to build a fire. (One guy, who had grown up in a village in Indonesia where his parents were missionaries, used a section of bamboo as a bellows to get the fire going) We boiled some water to make tea, and ate some of the snacks we had brought. A little bread truck playing music pulled up on the small lane behind the bunker, and we bought some sandwiches from it. The evening passed slowly and enjoyably. Finally, as I had to be at church in the morning, I and another guy in a similar situation took our leave, as rain began to pour. We hiked back to the train station, getting soaked in the process, and using our limited Chinese to explain to a couple who had taken refuge from the deluge in a small shrine that we did not, unfortunately, know of any place nearby where umbrellas could be purchased.
Upon reaching the station, we waited for the train a good bit. I was exhausted after a very long day, all that I am telling here was just the latter portion of it. This was the second beach we had been to, the previous one was more well-known, with golden sand. We made a trip up to the 7-11 to buy various things (cold noodles, dried fruit, cookies) which we combined into a decent lunch.
We also explored the nearby town, finding some interesting shops. But perhaps all that can be told another time. Coming back to this portion of the story, eventually the train did arrive, and we boarded. My sandals had caused some serious damage to my feet at this point, but I was too satisfied to care much. We did not, however, go back the entire way by train as we had come.
Instead, we went down the line a couple more stops, getting off at a somewhat more prominent town that had a bus line that ran back to Taipei. Though this was the first time for both of us, we successfully located the bus station, and before long were resting on the bus, on our way back to Taipei.
That was a good day, one that I will remember for a long time.
Will I ever get back there? He knows, and I trust Him.
My plans would never have led me to that place, or the many others I came to know and love.
It is only as a result of His plan for me that I forsook my career and ventured out, and now I cannot conceive of my life without the experiences that followed.
How then can I fail to believe that His ways are superior to mine?
I cannot. And so I press forward.
-Joseph
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