Elementary Lessons after Undergraduate Graduation

I remember hosting a summer Bible Study one week at my house during high school. My youth group, needless to say, did not do a very good job of keeping things clean. In addition, most of my relationships in youth group were not very substantial. Many of the people I had grown up with had been replaced by a completely different group by my junior and senior years in high school. I had very few if any deep connections. Taking into consideration these two things, I became extremely agitated and upset at them. Furthermore, I became frustrated at the fact that something seemingly so simple as letting people come over to my house had become such a burden. Why was it this difficult? Why did I have to be so meticulous and uptight? I remember expressing these sentiments and many more to my youth pastor afterwards, and, in the midst of the conversation he asked me, "But do you love them?" to which I replied "I want to...if I don't now, I really want to be able to say that I do."

These last few days, it's been nice having people crash our place on their way in and out of St. Louis; there's a sense of home and hearth that the dorms will never replicate. At this same time, this has reminded me of my own reluctance to give up my own comforts. This includes everything from offering food that my mother has brought from home to needing to be quiet when people decide to sleep early. Whether I get anxious over the increasingly cluttered nature of the apartment or simply wishing that I could have friends over for dinner without feeling the need to cook for an additional 3-4 people that I don't know as well, I am learning that to be hospitable is not simply doing what I already want to do (like hosting people I would already enjoy hosting) or giving up something that I'm already accustomed to giving, but it is intentionally and willingly offering up that which I value so that Christ can be honored more.

I have been blessed to have so many friends that are generous with their money, time, and possessions, and I hope and pray that I will continue to learn to do the same.

Current Status

Setting: Arts and Sciences Computer Lab Printing Pick-up Counter

Student Clerk: So does anyone have a job that they're waiting on?
Me: Yeah, I do. I printed from the one-sided printing station. It should 11 pages.
Student Clerk: Okay, let me see...is it the one called Russian...Death?
Me: (after slight pause) Yeah, that's it...and I know you're just dying to read it.

Student Clerk smirks

Two exams and one paper to go.

Thoughts on John (part 1)

So this year, my small group co-leaders and I decided to go through the book of John. Though we weren't sure at the time if going through a single book would be a good idea (since we didn't know who would be showing up consistently), I think it's safe to say that God blessed our time going through it. And, having wrapped up the final chapter about a week ago, I figured that it would be appropriate to have a few inevitably incomplete reflections or two about what I learned. And besides, it's finals time, which for me means it's paper time, and I'm willing to concede that this is a paper of some sort. And that's just how it is.

So without further ado, here goes.

John 1 opens up with the reality that "in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God" (v.1-2). And then we are told that through the word "all things were made" and in the word "was life" and that this "life was the light of men" (v. 3-4). And if that wasn't enough, we're told that "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (v. 5)

Of course, Jesus's words and fulfillment of Scripture (the word of God) throughout the gospel are powerful. It is with words that Jesus summons his disciples. "Come and you will see," as he tell them to follow him (John 1). It is his words that command the wedding servants to fill the jars with water so that he can turn them into wine, the sick man at the pool in Bethesda to get up, Lazarus to "come out" (John 2, 5, 11). With words of anger does Jesus cleanse the temple and fulfills the psalmist's words: "Zeal for your house will consume me" (John 2). It is his words that reveal him to the Samaritan woman and his word given to the official to believe so that his son might be healed (John 4). Most assuredly, it is his words, repeated to Peter, that reaffirm his disciple not only of forgiveness but his status as a child of God (John 21).

Jesus also calls himself "the light of the world" (John 8). He is a light that reveals and condemns the hypocrisy of the Pharisees (John 8), exposes the fragile (but not necessarily disingenuous) faith of the thousands that try to follow him (John 6), a light that shows his disciples how they "also are to love one another" (John 13). He is the light of all men, drawing all people to himself, among which are Samaritans, Greeks, and skeptical teachers of the law. Where else do we hear of light. A city on a hill. A light to the nations (Matthew 5). While the Pharisees, afraid of losing their light, refrain from defiling themselves in the heathen Pilate's presence, Jesus is unafraid to associate with the unclean, to let doubt touch him and believe (Thomas). Jesus goes so far as to eat meals with and wash the feet of his betrayer (Judas), of his denier (Peter). Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness. It is in the dark of night that he meets with Nicodemus to share the good news of the kingdom of God (John 3). He is the light that prays for his children on the night before he is to be crucified.

The Word is light. Summoning, cleansing, revealing, reaffirming, giving, healing, exposing, condemning, associating, meeting, and praying (and most assuredly, in the process, doing many other things as well).

why i need to get a camera phone

I friend of mine at church took this picture of me during church a week ago.

go here to see it

My thoughts?

1. I think I'll give a little drool next time for an added effect.

2. I still remembered the sermon.

3. Who doesn't sleep when they're at home?

Less than a month until graduation.

Goodness.

Ward No. 6

In Chekhov's short story, Ward No. 6, a conversation between the doctor Andrei Yefimych and the mad psychiatric patient Ivan Dmitrich takes place. Andrei is insisting that a person's environment has little to do with his security and peace of mind. Therefore, there's no need to be surprised at anything or get overwhelmed by the troubles of life. He says, "There's no difference between a warm, cozy study and this ward...A man's peace and content are not outside but within him."

Having already denounced the Stoics in their previous conversation, Ivan Dmitrich responds:

"To scorn suffering, to be always content and surprised at nothing you must reach that condition"--and Ivan Dmitrich pointed to the obese, fat swollen peasant--"or else harden yourself with suffering to such a degree that you lose all sensitivity to it, that is, in other words, stop living."

"A convenient philosophy: no need to do anything, and your conscience is clear, and you feel yourself a wise man...No, sir, that's not philosophy, not thinking, not breadth of vision, it's laziness, fakirism, a dreamy stupor..."

and most poignantly

"Christ responded to reality by weeping, smiling, grieving, being wrathful, even anguished; he didn't go to meet suffering with a smile, nor did he scorn death, but he prayed in the garden of Gethsemane for this cup to pass from him."

So I actually read Chekhov's story last summer as I was applying for medical school, ironically enough. As I re-read the story for my Russian Lit. paper, I am struck by how much often blunt insight that Chekhov and yet there's a constant tension between allowing his words to wholly resonate within me and guarding against a perceived excessiveness of cynicism that often comes out in his works (or at least in the ones about physicians). One thing remains. Sensitivity to other people's pain is paramount in our ability to love another. The ability to experience the peaks and valleys of life is what makes us human. And as I find these undergraduate years quickly coming to a close, I pray to God that I do not allow maturity to become infected with stoicism or wisdom to be equivocated with insensitivity to the stark realities around me.

Or, as Bum put it, "emotional retardation"

What Happens in a Pontiac Vibe

In 2003, my parents bought this Pontiac Vibe.
In 2004, I began my university days in St. Louis.
In 2006, I was given this car to use in St. Louis.
Two years later, I'm driving with Dennis on our way to Trader Joe's. He wants pita bread and a specific type of cheese. Ray wants raspberry and strawberry jam. I'm like an giddy kid going to the toy store; I'll grab whatever looks cool.

It's a gorgeous sixty-plus degrees in St. Louis. It has been raining miserably all week. It's supposed to rain tomorrow on Good Friday. Good riddance.

We're driving south on Big Bend about to turn onto Clayton. I realize that something has gotten loose in my window causing it to go all the way down. A bit perplexed I try to bring the window up and it gets stuck half way with the window obviously out of its regular frame. I cautiously tug on the window to see if it will pull up when **KSHHHH **(tinkle tinkle) the window utterly shatters. Small bits of glass everywhere; most of it on me.
I decide not to turn onto Clayton and keep going south.
Dennis and I pause in bewilderment.
The question "What just happened?" is clearly not worth asking at this point.
The window just shattered. Duh.

After about fifteen seconds of sobering silence, Dennis bursts out laughing. I ask him what's so funny, but that's another question with an answer I already know. The peculiarity of the situation is ridiculous. To hell with asking questions that already have answers.
What the heck just happened?

I remember that there's an auto dealership repair shop at Big Bend and Manchester. I continue driving. The three minutes it takes to get there can't pass by fast enough. I miss the first turn before Manchester. I take the next one and circle around. I'm still a bit bewildered. I believe the way I deal with unfortunate events is the exact opposite of hysteria. Sobriety. Bordering on dead wonder.

Eventually, I pick my way out of the car. The guy helping us out (his name is Josh) gives me a rough estimate and tells us that there's a waiting room in the back. Oh, and there's popcorn and soda back there too, hot chocolate and coffee if you want it.

Popcorn and Soda??

The situation is getting more humorous.

Dennis is helping himself to the amenities. First the hot cocoa, then the popcorn. He's making the most of the situation. Apparently he hasn't eaten all day. I call my parents, and that's when the phone games begin. It's back and forth between dealerships and my parents. Looks like the car might be under warranty still. Need to find the nearest dealer. My mom calls me back. Here's the number for the GM driver's assistance. I ask Dennis if he has a pen. "I have my mind," he responds smugly.

I find out the nearest dealer. They close at six. It's 5:45 and my drivers seat is still full of glass. They don't know if they'll cover it. But it's broken because something in the window was loose, I say. Well, they don't have an appointment until Monday. Sigh.

Ray and Joyce have gotten here. Ray's wearing a cutoff and short shorts. I haven't had the chance to say hello. I'm still on the phone.

I try another dealer, they're scheduling for Monday too. Can I get you down for Monday? I'll call you back, I say. I call my mom to explain that even if I did take the car there, it wouldn't be secure in the lot because of the busted window. Isn't that the same as this dealership? Yes. Sigh.

Sometime during this conversation, Ray comes up to me. I ask Ray if he has plans for tonight. He just wants to know what's going on. They're going to have had to wait a little longer than they thought. I'm too busy on the phone to give him a thorough response. It's way past six at this point. Now I can't even talk to the service department at the GM dealerships anymore; they're closed. I call the Driver's Assistance and start to talk to lady. I explain and she arranges for a towing service. I have further questions, but my phone battery is dying. I give her the phone number to the auto center that I'm at but realize that it won't work if it's an automated menu. My phone dies. I need to go find Dennis or Joyce to use their phone. Ray doesn't have his. I find Dennis and Joyce and ask them to use their phone so I can ask my parents what the number is again. Dennis blurts out, "Why don't you just ask me. I have a memory of a monster."

What?

It's the 1-800 #, I say. He dials the rest of the number into his phone and hands it to me.

Lord.

I sit down and talk to another rep. Yeah, she says. We have everything taken care of, they say. The towing company will hold onto the car until tomorrow and then deliver it to the dealership. Okay. Thanks.
I drop off the car key with the guy at the front desk to give to the towing company when they arrive. Dennis wants to go to Riddles. He must go. Or he'll be sad, says Joyce. We climb into Ray's car.

15 minutes later we arrive. It hasn't been 24 hours since last night when I went there with Dennis and Ray to see Ptah Williams and eat homemade ice cream. Fabulous jazz pianist. I find out that Ray's attire is due to his anticipation that he would pick me up right away and go running as soon as returned to campus. No worries, the high school next store to the dealer had a track. He got in a good 15 laps. Imagine that.

Dinner is good. Elias and Lily join us. Dennis dominates the conversation. He might has well. I have no complaints. I remember praying for the food. Thank you for everyone here. I pause.

Thanks.

There's so much to soak in. There are so many blessings to be found in this afternoon that they are no longer disguised. Good weather, a car under warranty, a friend with a freakish memory, with an even freakier sense of humor, a track so that a friend can get in his daily exercise, helpful people at the auto shop, no injuries to report, friends and family on whom I can depend without giving a second thought.

Ray drops me off after dinner. Thanks dude. Let me know when you need to get your car. Handshake that turns into embrace. They should have chest-bumped, I hear Dennis say from the backseat.

Even now, I sit here. A bit overwhelmed. Somber. But for an entirely different reason.
I revisit fall of junior year when my ceiling collapsed. I remember sitting in my room with my head burrowed in my knees thinking about how dreadful the semester had been until then, feeling quite alone. At the end of that semester, I remember finding a care package of fruit from my parents on my front porch after bombing two consecutive finals in the same day and breaking down into tears because I felt so undeserving.

But before I get too lost in thought I remember my family here in St. Louis. And what a family it is. I remember my God, and what a God he is.

Tomorrow is Good Friday. Sunday is resurrection. Today, is grace. Grace revealed, manifested, embodied in bits and pieces of glass. Broken for me so that I might remember the God that I serve, that I might remember my Savior who was broken so that I might be made whole.

Thank you.

Girard on Dostoevsky

Finishing up my paper on Crime and Punishment. After four years in college, I can't believe that quotes like this one strike me profoundly:

"Dostoevsky does not claim to escape from the underground. To the contrary, he plunges into it so profoundly that his light comes to him from the other side. 'It is not as a child that I believe in Christ and confess him. It is through the crucible of doubt that my Hosanna has passed.'"

But I've come to realize that this is why Dostoevsky resonates with me.

Christ in all things: in certainty and in doubt.