Idle and Blessed

So, I'm a few posts behind in the queue of my brain, meaning I have to blog about Shane Claiborne before I can move on to more recent things. He returned to his second home, Belmont, a couple months back, and I think he's always so good for us to hear. So I hope he doesn't get tired of coming... Anyway, he talked about a bunch of great stuff, but my favorite was what he said about politics. He said we need to be known for what we're for, not what we're against. The parts of the church that are doing things like burning Qurans, bombing abortion clinics, and holding signs that say "Jesus hates fags," "Repent or be burned," etc, just perpetuate the general associations of Christianity with being against things. And my personal tendency toward those people is opposition, too, ironically. I want to oppose them, publicly denounce them, defend myself and my Christianity, defend Jesus, but I think the better thing is to sing a more beautiful song. Live a...

How many times have walked down these steps? Hundreds, probably. I’m alone, and my mind is reciting Russian phrases over and over, most of which I don’t understand. Cлава Бога...спасибо большое. A strong sense of nostalgia is coming over me. The feel of the uneven steps beneath my shoes, the cool, damp air, the faint sound of little Russian voices in other parts of the building, the view of the looming forest-covered mountains all around the camp. I smile. As I walk out of the dim concrete building I notice some familiar faces on the broken sidewalk. The overwhelming urge to talk to them fills me. “Good morning,” I hear myself say, realizing they can’t understand me. Why am I here? How did I connect with these people last summer, and the summers before that, when we didn’t understand each others’ words? I have to connect with them. As I approach the building where breakfast, worship, and our morning teaching session awaits me, more people crowd around, some mothers cooing to their ...

Two weeks ago today I was in New York City, speed-walking around Manhattan like a total tourist-trying-to-look-local. I always do that, by the way. I always try to look local everywhere I go, and I'm not sure why. That's why in Russia I adopt their lack of facial expressions in public and don't speak in shops unless I know how to say it correctly. That's also why I learned and used more slang than I realized, but I'm kinda proud of that. Anyway, NYC was gorgeous. The big Christmas tree was up next to the ice skating rink in Rockefeller Center, and there were pops of Christmas everywhere. Christmas music playing on Madison Avenue. A flashing Santa five stories up on the side of a skyscraper. Tiffany's decorated in pink, blue, and white, the only colors they acknowledge the existence of, with the dainty trees and carousels on floor three (the "spectacular Christmas floor" according to the elevator man who I almost asked to be my grandpa). And then there ...

I'm writing a paper on Genesis and the Nephilim passage of 6:1-8, and its messing with my mind a little bit. Since the Nephilim passage is a segway into the flood narrative, I'm writing about how the story of people messing up leads to the story of God destroying things. And I was thinking about how God decided to start over with a clean slate, flood the earth and start over, but graciously noticed Noah and let humanity live on through him. And then I remembered how one time when I was little I was riding with dad in that old 1970's bright orange truck he used to have with the little windows by the mirrors that you could push open in the summer time. And we were going somewhere in that truck, and he was telling me about how scientists and people that study the earth have found evidence that the plant and animal life on earth was made and destroyed a few times before this one. There's evidence that there were ecosystems on earth that flourished for long expanses of time ...

So, I'm reading an incredible book and processing an incredible trip to New York, not to mention the wonderful end of the semester is upon me...so I have a good post or two a'brewin. In the meantime, this song will not leave me alone: It’s a long and windy road On the way to freedom It’s a rough and rocky hill To climb sometimes It’s harder than they say Tougher than they think it is To get to the other side I have heard the stories So I’m sure it can be done And some arrive there sooner Than the other ones For most it takes a lifetime Few just over night To get to the other side Jesus, Thank You for patience Thank You for grace Thank You for interceding And pleading for our case Thank you You're committed To doing what it takes To get us to the other side Your love makes me want to fight For the other side Seems like you’d get tired of me After all this time After all the holes I’ve dug Then fallen down inside Still your mercy wakes me With the morning light Inviting me to...