Love is not Beautiful

I bet this is a pleasant surprise for the other Piny Pek bloggers (especially, particularly Archer).

I didn't even know that I could still contribute to this blog.

And I feel so out of the loop and even misplaced.

But here's something that I wrote March 29 (I think); it's my most recent writing:

Love is not beautiful; love is selfish. The Sonnets of the Portuguese are not beautiful, because they are about love. And when in love, you forsake all others, your family and your friends—those who are indeed beautiful. I once browsed through a book called 1000 Beautiful Things—none of it was beautiful, because love was written on its every page.

A kiss is not beautiful; it is disgusting—two tongues reeling about like snakes mating. And it is the very symbol of love, of a disgusting love.

Sex is above all the least beautiful, especially when it is done by two people in love. From heaven, they must look like featherless birds flapping. Even sex derived from lust is more beautiful than two people in love, twisting and entangling their bodies in and out. For some time they are one, and then they are separate; then they are one again. Sex without love is beautiful—because lusty, foul humans wallow in pleasure. They don’t feel the longing desire that people in love feel as they are separate and must function with this hidden secret—that for some time they were whole.

They don’t feel the ache of a human-shaped hole ripped from their bodies—just to fit perfectly together by nightfall and torn apart by day break. Twenty-four hours is measured differently by people who are in love; it is divided into pieces—the times with which they love and the times with which they don’t even exist. As if to say, I love you or I am not at all.

And in this moment of inexistence, it has taken one good-bye kiss, one morning-after, one day of silence before the longing sets in. Sex without love is for actors, trying to taste heaven without repercussion. For a single moment, they think they’re in love, the curtains close, they bow their heads to ravenous applause, and they slither away to soak in their diluted pleasures.

Because sex with love is very different, indeed. Lovers are not actors, merely seeking self-centered pleasures. Love by nature isn’t selfish, it is very beautiful.

- Evon R. Christian

26

the windshield wiper's been at it for a few minutes. it's starting to thump against the car.

hustle, bustle, and, so much muscle
cells about to separate
i find it hard to concentrate
and, temporary this
cash and carry 'em
stepping up to indicate
the time has come to deviate

the rain pours harder. i grip the wheel with my left hand, holding on tight as the curves wind.

and, all i want is for you to be happy
and, take this moment to make you my family
and, finally you have found something perfect
and, finally you have found...

my right hand is so blessed as to be interlocked with yours. you lean toward me in your seat, fingers rapt with mine.

death defying this
mess i'm buying its
raining down with love and hate
now, i find it hard to motivate

the tires peel and turn as i speed on to my house to show off my amazing best friend-turned-love.

and, estuary is, blessed but scary
heart's about to palpitate
i'm not about to hesitate
and, want to treasure the rest of your days here
and, give you pleasure in so many ways dear

you speak loud enough to be heard over our new favorite song, telling me of your family, giving me more reason to love them and you.

and, finally you have found something perfect
and, finally you have found...
here we go

our windows are rolled down just enough, the rain-guards not really working and i don't care as my arms gets sprayed by the intoxicating rain.

do you want me to show up for duty?
and, serve this woman, and honor her beauty
and, finally you have found something perfect
and, finally you have found...

hungry and thirsty, still several tens of miles from a dinner we're incredibly late for, there's peace in your touch and the fleeting glance.

...yourself... with me, will
you, agree to take this man
into your world
and now, we are as one

i'm blown away by who you are, where you're from and that you have faith in us despite neither of us having a great track record.

my lone ranger
the, heat-exchanger
is, living in this figure eight
now i do my best to recreate
and, sweet precision
and, soft collision
heart's about to palpitate
now i find it hard to separate

i am broken, my past the rap sheet of a criminal of the heart. too many broken behind me, my own in shambles...

and, all i want is for you to be happy
and, take this woman and make you my family
and, finally you have found someone perfect
and, finally you have found...

you are perfect, the beautiful woman i love and will hold and hold dear forever. i want you and you alone.

all i want is for you to be happy
and, take this woman and make you my family
and, finally you have found someone perfect
and, finally you have found...
Yourself...

as the final word rings out i look into your eyes a second longer than you'd like as the road blurs beneath us.

as the final ring is cast and dyed i breathe in something never tasted before. i know. i love you. te quiero tanto... tanto... tanto... tanto... tanto.....




[lyrics by Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Hard to Concentrate", sentences written entirely, completely genuinely, by me]

first. drink it black.

i've been up for ALMOST an hour at this point this morning.

i've gotten into the habit lately of spending nearly at least an hour on the phone with a particular loved one every night (at least while i'm away at school). that tends to make me tired, but for some reason i get up really bloody early anyway.

the clock read 11.57 when i hit the pillow last night and about 7.03 when i rose this morning, my body itching incessantly on my legs, my arm.

i've got poison ivy. again. it normally lasts me about a month. hopefully not this time. i've caught it early and applied calomine lotion this morning, then came back to my dorm room, put on the coffee, and watched a ridiculously pointless fake video called 'Everyday Normal Guy', and showed it to my roommate.

poured some cereal, it's got real strawberries in it :) and Silk Soymilk. pretty healthy, and should be vegan, too, i think :) :)

coffee stopped choking and bubbling about five minutes ago and i poured it into a mug. took the first sip.

i drink it black. Imogen Heap's playing loud into my ears. Hide and Seek.

without a mug of coffee every morning, i get a caffeine headache. but i think i wrote about that some time last year, probably...

i was starting to get a vague headache until that first sip. the first sip is really good.

how great is it that i start the day with a hot mug of bold black coffee and a conversation with God, and that i finish out the day with another conversation with God and a great conversation with her! i am blessed. :)

i lose

one of my favourite games of all time is Risk.
i think i have this vague sense that at some point in history i won that game once.
but as a general rule, i know i always lose.

and yet it is still among my favourites.
while sitting here before church, reading about suffering for the Name (a Name i believe is also so often attributed to true justice and righteous acts for the sake of the people) from the sermon on the mount, and listening to Coldplay's Viva la Vida, it occurred to me exactly why i love that game so much!

i love fighting hard--to the last man--until my imminent defeat against an enemy so big that i know they'll crush me, but until that moment, until that day, I'LL GIVE 'EM HELL!


in that sense it feels like reality, the way i expect my life to play out if God puts me where i think he'll put me--
before an unjust enemy.

write your letters
grit your teeth
say your prayers
lock and load.

routinized, scrutinized, mutinized

two of the title words are not recognized by the google dictionary spellings. they're not usually turned into verbs in this way, they are meant to be nouns and things that just happen without any intent. overtly.

however, i feel like college has begun to routinize me, which is not exactly what i would desire for myself, or for anyone i care about. it strips away my ability to frequently make random calls and break from the "normal". classes are great, as i've already said, but i feel mildly constrained by the routine that these classes are pushing on me.

it makes sense to me then that i scrutinize the system that does this to me. after all, are we not taught to think for ourselves in school? ;) i'm not trying to write this in an annoying way, or a rebellious manner. i say this pretty light-heartedly, but i like to examine the vague irony of it. i am routinized by things that i love, and by someone i love, whose voice every night is so calming and intoxicating that it soothes my mind and body to sleep, even if my heart denies me sleep by pounding fiercely inside my tossing and turning body, until i wrap my arms around my pillow and "pretend i am kissin the lips that i am missin".

that's the kind of routine i used to hate about having a girlfriend, but things have changed since that sort of routine came after getting to know her so much better on a friendship level for nearly two months, spending at least an hour or two in conversation with her nearly every single day, face to face, shopping with her for foods both of us can eat, sodas she'll make me finish after her first sip, and tiny pieces of manufactured and discovered oddities in jewelry stores that accentuate beautiful characteristics of her or of any other soul that dons them.

the routine of her voice every night these past two weeks has been really helpful for me. and really enlightening, as well.

so, due to the scrutiny
i've placed on the layers of routine
that affect my every day's and "some day's"
i have determined that i will break away from all of the unhealthy routines
and focus only on the healthy ones, allowing the rest to fit in place
and my branching out--i'll call it mutiny--
will allow me to make some changes
in the way this world views justice.

i declare mutiny against the harmful status quo.

i may only have a semester here at this particular institution, which means i've got a few months to make a mark and make sure as many in the region as possible, are aware of injustice on a global scale, and have begun to find methods of fighting back.

routine scrutinized produces mutiny.

i like it this way ;)

one hundred wonderful things that will never work out

someday soon i'll just do it
just bite the bullet
take the verdict
to hear the truth that's been so pensive

i'll walk into your house
sit down across from you
fold my hands in front of me
and look at you in perfect seriousness
and i'll ask you out
and you'll say 'no'
and i'll ask you why
and you'll say so...

you'll give me reasons
things i can change
and others i cannot
i'll feel like crap
but i won't make you feel the same

i'll untangle my fingers from each other
and shakily shake your hand
i'll say 'thank you', rise from my chair
take my leave, and step out for some air.

standing on your porch
i'll give you exactly
one hundred nineteen seconds
without me

i'll wish that i smoked
and then i'll wish i had something to smoke
like a newport or a marlboro
they say i look like a camel light guy

but as i stand there alone
aggravation and a red face
i'll come slowly around to contentment
i'll think of you inside
you're one of my best friends, you know

i'll take a puff of the tobacco-less air
and make a list of one hundred wonderful things
that will never work out

and at the top of the list will be you and i
and at the bottom will be carving up Mars into apple pie

and realizing solemnly that it ain't that bad
i'll turn from my reverie and reach for the door

put out the cigarette never really in my hand
take a drag of the air and of God and of peace in the land

and when i come back in
you'll probably be laying down with the TV still on
maybe you've turned the volume back up

i'll say hey and drop my keys and wallet by the door
grab some cookies and fill my cup
and sink into my seat

we'll watch Mind Of Mencia like nothing had passed
we're back to normal again, sister
laughing with a really funny guy named Carlos
and i like it this way

i know that what i write here
i'll never ever say some day

it just helps me to write it
to picture it this way

knowing nothing could ever go wrong
as long as this is how it stays

in fact you'll probably never hear any word
or mention of this from me
i'll fail to ever tell you myself
how much i really do care about you
i know it won't work
but there's other things that don't either
apple pie in the sky among them

and i know that life rolls that way
i can roll with that too
thanks for your patience
i can really assure you
that these feelings are gone
by the end of a South Park or two

thanks for who you are
thanks for your coolness
and for not letting me slip away
no matter how many other people you bring into your life

in fact that's all i believe i ever worried for.
peace be with you, sister
and thanks for keeping me close by.



[photo from hamada's photostream on flickr.com]

what if i stumble, what if i fall?

as Rob Bell has pointed out in one of his sermon's i've watched, everything is spiritual. there is to be no separation between our spirits and our bodies.

if that be the case then why do i struggle to stand so often?

i have many close friends whom i look to for guidance in life, people i imagine to be more strongly in touch with the Father. i look to them when i am weak in my walk. i look to them when i don't feel weak even (which may be when i am truly weakest, at times) and i see their example to be almost unattainable.

as many have struggled with over the years, i wonder if i am no longer simply IN the world, and if i've not become, somewhere along my self-infatuated path, OF the world.

in my efforts to be relevant i've only weakened the message and power of the Gospel.

each time i think i'm starting to get back on track i see that a friend is so much MORE excited about God than i am, and that they broadcast it more publicly than i. and i crumple, for i do not wish to be like them. i do not want to be known simply for shouting on and on of how much i'm in love with Jesus. i don't want to look to people like Jesus is all that i think about, though he most often is EXACTLY what i wish i could be channeled into 100% of the time. i just don't want to come across as though i'm saying i am "holier than thou". which is perhaps what i feel like when i look at others so seemingly in love with Jesus and at peace for it.

and this is the part in the story where i realize it is incredibly likely i am frankly OF the world.

and i don't know how to regain my stance of being in, and not of...

i see now that i am avoiding exactly what i want because i hate the idea of being titled and labeled and named as "one of them". it is not fear of association, as much as it is fear of being stuck, dependent under one title, one label alone.
and yet as much as i know my only real claim to any identity comes through Christ's claim on me, as a human trying to make an impact, and avoid stereotypes, i try to outrun his grace, love, and possession of my heart that i absolutely want him alone to have.

i am a stupid mule who is ignoring the call of the only farmer who will give me rest from the cold, tired world, just because i don't want to be seen as the one who wimped out and couldn't make it on his own. even though i know it is the best possible thing in this world for me, and maybe there's not even enough people watching me to see me "wimp out."

a strange place indeed, Watson.

Sunday!

today is the first sunday i've had off work since like two months ago! the weather outside is bloody brilliant!

(here's a look at my view from the library's second floor! and then one of me, chillin here, too!)





in about an hour and a half i'll have walked across a lovely little wooden bridge over a creek through many green backyards, and arrived at the house of some friends from church where i'll be worshipping with them together in the setting of their home church... i.e. church done the way it once was, back 2000 years ago... including a taco bar when we're finished haha! (ok, maybe peter, paul, and mary never had quite this kind of fiesta, but you get the picture!)

i had a lovely lunch, drove around a bit with the windows down, blasting great music and enjoying the view (for once, Indiana's farms actually become incredibly appealing lol!) and now, as you know, i'm chillin at the library while micah reads and i watch a couple old-school episodes of Disney channel's 'So Weird'... from like seriously 6 or 7 years ago! man this show rocks!

as i've come to discover... Peace is good, it is very good indeed.

PAX.
-archer

confession (round 2)

last May i posted about several major character flaws of mine.

since that time i haven't really had too many opportunities to say anything further on the topic of my character flaws. but now i've come up with a reason for that to change.

i've got another character flaw to address and willingly expose to the few who don't already see this in me. tonight i had a bit of a chance to reflect on all my past relationships with girlfriends... i was driving home from a Bible study where the leader's daughter (a friend of my little sister) said something along the lines of, "so, i heard you got engaged in Africa?" apparently my sister had not only blabbed to this friend, but to a hand-full of other friends i've never even met, not to mention this friend tonight told her mother, and i've already told her father, in another related discussion.

it doesn't really bother me at all that people know this about me (as long as i'm able to explain and contextualize that statement!) fact of the matter is that i was, in fact, according to cultural norms, engaged to a girl i met on my team in Arusha, simply because i found her attractive and she caught on. it was all a whirlwind from there. we ended up fine by the end of it, sticking to our single selves, however, somewhere along the lines i'd further damaged my credibility, and apparently, she had as well. or i had done so, for her. i don't really know, or comprehend it all.

the point is, including the fact that i've been engaged already and "broken it off" (though i was oblivious of the severity of it until about a month and a half later!) i've simply had too many girlfriends too deal with myself. i'm not proud of it, and it's shown me just how weak i really am in this area.

i wear a purity ring. it's a small, ding-ed up silver ring on my left ring finger. from over 5 feet away, looks like i'm married. i look over 20, sometimes as old as 26, apparently... basically, with this ring on, i look untouchable.

that's just the way i want it to be for now--i'm still trying to go a couple years on my own, just workin things out with God, since i really haven't had such a chance since my sophomore year of high school... ergo it's time for a bleedin' break!

basically, i mess up. i ROYALLY mess up. i go back and forth between the Reign of Over-Zealous and the Reigned-in Over-Cautious! apparently, subconsciously i think that firing both kinds of weapons will balance things out and create a pleasant, neutral reaction. sometimes i get lucky (i.e. not dumb) and i ease in a statement here or there, where it could've been quite explosive instead, and totally read in the wrong (or right) way! thankfully, that hasn't happened too recently... barely.

just trying to hold myself together, and keep my sights on Aslan, and not get too tripped up trying to play the field for the time being. i've done enough of that at this point. i apologize to all whom i've hurt. please forgive me.

hopefully this next stint on earth will prove better-handled.

PAX.

probably strange... came out of nowhere, huh?

Hey everyone, i know this probably seems to have come out of freakin nowhere! and to some extent it did. i'm finally having a some time alone with God, at this very moment, and i just wanted to say how beautiful God really is.

i personally forget it all too often. maybe we all do. i encourage us all to turn to our God, and seek the truth of his love and grace, and the beauty of his face.

without him, i'd have nothing real to offer anyone on here. i don't remember who said this, but i love it:

"what a man is, on his knees, before the LORD,
that he is, and nothing more."

yeah, sounds about right. i know i play myself and my work up (personally just me, i'm saying) to be something big. i really do believe it is. but i think i put too much of the guts and glory on myself whenever i start talking about my activism. this was never the intended outcome. but it happens all too often. i love my work, i love what i do! but i can't let it be the main focus of my heart, or else my heart will shrivel and dry up under strain and pressure. this is where God comes in, and if i'm diligent about going back to him, then i'll have no issues of how strong and full my heart is. my God is a God who loves and cares so deeply for ALL his children. he'd do anything (and did everything) to see his children get the best for them, in this life!

my God definitely cares about human rights, if he cares at all about his children. i like to think my work is done with him, as a friend and partner and servant and son, all at the same time. this way i can do it with perfect love even if my actions do not seem perfect.

PAX.

things have changed...

brothers and sisters... something has changed in the manner of my writing. at least the subject matter.

so the heavier subject matter, like that which i last posted. like that which is now deleted.

it's posted elsewhere under another name and the whole works. if you want to read any of my new posts on my new site, ask me individually. i'll give you the link. but please be careful. if you read my last post--that looked more like a newspaper article--then you might have a hint of the dangers involved with using real information on either side of the atlantic.

please understand if things here seem suddenly less suspenseful. hopefully my protective measures in switching over will be worth something and will help protect the authors here, and all who have commented. i'll definitely try to work on both sites, of course!

p.s. if you're willing to go slightly undercover, i'd be glad to work on this with a partner or two (or more). there are many many human rights stories to cover. the world is only so big.

PAX.

welcome Krissi!

Krissi is now officially the fourth member of the team (the third of the active roster, and the fifth to join the journal)!

please be as kind to her and her views as you have been to myself and mine!

she is not going to be an exact carbon copy of my theology and idealogy, so please don't expect it. in fact i've already told her that i want her to post anything she can think of on here that we disagree about already. there's not much, but she's definitely got a right to post her own stance and opinion.

God be with you all!

see you next year!

PAX
-archer

into able hands, and a very able heart

as early as Friday, December 14, 2007 i and my partner, Punjabican, will both be unable to contribute here until next year.

it is hard to have to shelve this for now, but when i return from outreach (in Mwanza, TZ) on January 10, 2008, i should have some great stories and observations and other thoughts to post on here. she will be going on winter break from school, as of this friday, and i don't remember exactly when she'll be able to start writing again.

we apologize for the boredom that may ensue whenever you check into this site. God knows i will be bored without this so familiar arm of expression.

but we also trust that we will by no means suffer any loss of creativity and imagination and material to put up on here!



in other news, though slightly related, we're capping off our first calendar year with this blog, with our first anniversary actually coming next month, on January 12. when we began we had four writers. three are still on board, but only two of us remain active. on our first day both Punjabican and i posted about the beginnings of everything we were striving four.

i said, on January 28, "i am going to experience the hardest months of my life to date, this year." the entry was entitled "i never knew i could be so tired"

that holds perfectly true, even though i had yet no real idea of what it was really going to look like.

it's interesting to look back and see that despite our early idealism, we've all stuck to our guns. even the two writers who don't write anymore have remained true to their hearts, and to mine, as my friends, and i know all four of us did something right by starting this journal.

it will be sad to go for so long, writing nothing. if i get a chance to, i have one other friend, deeply involved with all that Punjabican and i are striving toward, and also a great writer--i would like to invite her to join us as well! and perhaps, Punjabican and i will leave this journal in her able hands and very able heart.

thanks to everyone on the team who has made this such a great year! my love and prayers are with you all!

Merry Christmas!
Happy New Year!

May God's constant presence be a blessing and a joy to you as seasons shift.
PAX.
Namaste.
Salaams.
Peace.
-Archer & Punjabican

heat

the heat is on.
i feel idle once again.
i feel a waste of energy and knowledge.
i need to be out there.
gotta go fight.

the heat is on.

i picked up 'Not On Our Watch' again, after over a month. just in the mood for something political and activism-related. and now i feel more lost than ever.

missions is important, and not more or less important than justice, i believe. frankly, i think Jesus seemed to emphasize how we are to live more than what we are living for in the end. i could be wrong. but that's just the impression i get.

i feel idle once again.

i'm in Africa, but there's so little i can do. i can't give money since i'm so low on it myself. i can't write letters since letters across Africa rarely seem to make it where they're going (sent one to Dodoma, TZ, from here, and one to Capetown--two months ago. no reply.)

i miss lobbying with my colleague Bethany P. she and i were a good team. we hit two congresspersons from Ohio in one week, while thousands of other Amnesty activists were doing the same nation-wide. and that was back in March. i can't do anything like that here. in Darfur, people are still targets.

i feel a waste of energy and knowledge.

i learned a lot about Darfur and other issues like it, while working with Bethany in the spring. i've learned a lot while reading this book. i've learned a lot from peers and fellow passionate people.

i'm nearly consumed by the energy for this task. i'm at the point where i'm willing to pull out anything i can from companies my Roth IRA is invested in, if they're in any way connected to Sudan. i'll march straight up Capital Hill chanting if you give me a chance.

i need to be out there.

sitting here, with all this energy cooped up inside me, feeling so useless and yet so potent, i can think of only two solutions: either go to Khartoum personally, or likewise to D.C.

i need to be among the ranks of the marchers, the lobbyists, the mega-phone shouters and screamers, the political writers and journalists, the eager students and sacrificial soldiers. but i'm here, with an ever watchful eye for just such an opportunity.

gotta go fight.

standing at the edge of the cliff, what else is there to do. i've been backed into the corner by the indifference and ignorance around me. the people with the blank faces don't realize where i am, how close i am to the edge.

but now i've gotta take a stand, raise the banner, draw attention, raise awareness. shake things up. fight. things get dirty when people raise havoc. quiet is more destructive than loud protest. i gotta go join the fight.

Get into gear and make some noise.
-Archer

-a really controversial political/ecclesiastical blog on Hillary Clinton-

Hitler.
Stalin.
Mao.

Communist China.
Soviet USSR.
NAZI Germany.
Sharia Saudi Arabia.

Disappearances.
Firing Squads.
Hangings.
Arrests.
Public Executions.

...or simply slander.

all these people, places, and things are closely correlated, in collected memory and common knowledge, with the reality of vast persecution. the very last (and seemingly least) on this list, is rarely measured as the same caliber.

but maybe that's all the persecution Jesus and his roving bands will get if Hillary is elected next year.

the Church is (or was) strong under all the regimes listed, in their respective locations. what if the Church would grow if it realized that Christendom didn't have a monopoly on the grand establishment of 'American Government'? ("Hail the con-qu'ring HE-ROOOO!!!" *trumpet blast*)

i wanted to vote for Barack Obama.
(even though he spoke of invading Pakistan)
i wanted to vote for Sam Brownback.
(even though he seems to have a beef against gay people)
i wanted to vote for Ron Paul.
(even though he seems to have no mercy on illegal immigrants)
i wanted to vote for Morgan Freeman.
(even though a great African American like him only stands a chance in 'Deep Impact')
i even wanted to vote for Jesus Christ.
(but Mom told me that would probably be a waste unless His second coming is inauguration day, 2009)

but, no... out of nowhere, while pondering the increasingly over-Christianite right-wing political climate of the U.S. ... God throws me a curveball, and puts a brand new name into this young voter's head.

yeah... hers.

Hillary Clinton.

i'm so confused. but i think maybe she'll have my vote.

i want to clarify this... somehow.

growing up, i was raised in a relatively conservative Christian home. i've had really close friends raised in very strict homes of the like. many of those friends have turned their backs on their old "faith" since it was more of a force-fed, indoctrinated religion. i stated once in a youth group setting, a few years back, that my biggest feared is an entirely Christian-run world. frankly, as i begin to understand american politics, that holds true more fervently than ever. i don't want to live in a Christian nation, just as i don't want to live in an atheist nation (like the former government in Albania), or under Sharia (Qur'an) Law, like Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan, and the northern half of Nigeria.

i can't see any of those places truly benefiting the heart the citizens have for their God (or lack there-of).

Jesus did not overthrow Roman occupation in Israel. Rather, Jesus did attack Pharisee religious leaders on nearly a daily basis.

Jesus attacked religious rulership because it left the Pharisees devoid of love for their beautiful Adonai!

i have a friend attending classes at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia. she's recently written that she misses God. the late Jerry Falwell has set up his school in so distinctly a Christian frame that men and women stay on opposite ends of campus, and on only one day a year is any member of the opposite sex (aside from immediate family, hopefully) allowed into your dorm room, as a sort of 'Open House'. God is everywhere on that campus, and seemingly nowhere in the hearts of some of its students.

my friend misses God, on a Christian college campus in the Bible Belt of the USofA!

people say they’ll leave the country if Hillary’s elected. who knows, maybe she’ll deport half of us anyway... i know so little of her politics--except that she’s a caricature of the devil to so many right-wing Christians.

i think i’d rather leave a country under the rulership of Pharisees than abandon the strong and the few faithful, under Nero.

“So Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don’t get tied up again in slavery to the law.” -Paul’s letter to the members of the Church in Galatia, chapter 5: verse 1

if we are free to choose, will we not choose the Truth?

PAX (ROMANA)

Rose with Dirty Feet

i scrambled frantically around while the rest of my class was still singing worship songs in the classroom, across the courtyard. i collected a large plastic basin from the showers in the guy's restroom, my own bath towel, and an 8-inch ceramic bowl from the kitchen, filling it carefully with the cleanest water i could, since the base has been running on muddy water for the past 48 hours.

the words of John's gospel (chapter 13:1-17) pulsing through my heart as i try to make sense of what just entered my mind while looking across the classroom, singing Swahili spirituals, my eyes locked on a woman named Rose. she'll be leaving our DTS early because she's pregnant and probably about to pop. she won't be doing the outreach, but she'll be able to re-attend just that phase of any of the upcoming DTSes next year.

our leader explained Rose's farewell story to us after we finished eating, and our speaker for the week prayed over her, preparing her for the journey ahead, along the road home, across the breadth of Tanzania.

as the singing began, Jesus' action and words in John's gospel stabbed into me from no place i can imagine. origin-less, these thoughts led me to take another drag on my coke bottle, setting it down on the table in front of me again, and then exitting the chorus.

coming back across the courtyard now, mission accomplished, i was steadily carrying a basin, cradling a bowl and my big brown towel, praying in the dark of night that i wasn't spilling anything. i didn't understand where this had come from.

Jesus, i haven't done this in years. is this really your idea? am i gonna look really vain? i feel like an attention grabber.

10 minutes later, i was on my knees in a room only occupied by myself and three others, dipping my clumsy, lanky white hands into the bowl, and carrying water carefully over to Rose's feet waiting in the basin.

"Maji baridi?"
"Ndiyo."
She hisses. i've just told her that yes, the water will be cold.
"Pole." (Sorry.)

at first the water invokes a recoil on her part, but soon, as Paul reads the story in John 13, from his Swahili Bible, seated next to her, i am lost in the one i am imitating.

first the right foot, then she withdraws it, dried to the touch, and offers her left foot, just as thickened, toughened, and scarred as the first. her brown skin is difficult to gauge concerning it's cleanliness, but i'm thorough anyway. and then finishing up, i wipe it dry with my towel, draped in a bundle over my right shoulder.

she blesses me quietly ("Mungu aku bariki.") as i look up at her when i finish, pulling away the basin and bowl, drying up the floor where Jesus had humbled me. Paul finishes reading, closing the bible, unable to meet my eyes, because his are watering up. not because of what i've done, i'm sure, but because Rose is one of his best friends here, and she's leaving too soon. i hug them both, resting my head on both shoulders in turn, and then just as quietly as i'd begun, i'm done, and take my leave.

suddenly all i want is to be alone with Jesus.
suddenly all i can think about is Jesus, the Son of Man whom i've just imitated and obeyed.
and suddenly i get why i did it.
it had nothing to do with Rose, really. she may or may not remember the mzungu who washed her feet, several months from now, while caring for her sixth child in its infant stages. but i'll remember how captive i suddenly was to Jesus.
and he'll remember what it was like to have, on this rare occassion, my full attention.

PAX.

for the record...

i was just informed this morning, in an observation from a dear friend who read my most recent blog, the Essay (on Evil and Good). she pointed out that Love and Hate are not opposites, rather she said that any of these words would be better opposed to Love:
apathy
coldness
coolness
deadness
casualness
languidness
indifference
carelessness
lukewarmness
insensibleness
halfheartedness

her very real evidence and reasoning is that if you Hate someone you still actually have a feeling toward them... you care about them in one way or another. you think of them in someway, and the opposite of Love is supposed to be the opposite of the greatest affection, care, concern, noticing, and whatever else. thank you for clearing that up... if i ever get around to writing about more of those topic i listed in the beginning (as i hope to relatively soon), then i will be sure you straighten everything out!

Peace to all in a world devoted to Unrest.
-Archer

what i am coming to learn, and coming to love.

please read this article.

i am relatively unacquainted with the truth of suffering, of hopelessness.

i am a poor missionary student.
no stable bank account state-side.
the poorest of the westerners in this YWAM DTS in Arusha, Tanzania.
the one who's broken two hearts in one fell swoop--mine among the two.
the one who's defied everything about my old culture.
the one who can barely afford to be using this computer.
the one who can barely afford to call home.
the brother and son missing his family.
the brother missing his brother.
the brother missing his sister.
the brother missing his dog.
the one who cries the most.
the one who has mood swings.
the one who hurts most among the team of students.
the one who has just recently encountered personal hopelessness, and barely survived it.
the one aching for ancient voices, both human and otherwise.
the one who is at peace.
the one who writes too much, reads too much, thinks too much.
...but is still held and loved by God.

just read this article.

if you think you know suffering, this'll step on your toes, laugh at your ideas, and then lovingly give you a better idea of how to live, and how to look at life.

Amen.
Peace.
Love.
Joy.
Suffering.
to You.
Amen.

Church ..part two..

"Jesus said to the people who believed in him, "'you are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. and you will know the thruth, and the truth will set you free... So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free.'"
-John 8.31-32,36

all truth we ever learn is meant to point us toward the Son who truly craves a relationship with us. but, as Taylor pointed out, we are given the freedom to choose to live in freedom. or we can stick to our old ways. as many of Jesus' disciples deserted him in John 6.60-71, he humbly asked the 12, "are you also going to leave?" (v.67)

i can picture that revolutionary leader, already pushed into the ground by the religious leaders of the time, living his whole life both solely AS truth, and FOR truth. and when people refuse truth, whether given proof or no, it can destroy the good messenger. with sadness weighing on him, Jesus turned from the crowd to his twelve closest brothers, looking each of them in the eyes for a moment as he annunciated those pain-surged words. possibly on the verge of tears, he slows down his speech, letting each syllable bring his gaze to another apostle in the small huddle. the wind on the hillside is forced to the background of all thought for the apostles. the sun burning on their faces and the sand beneath their toes, uncomfortably shifting on the pads of their sandals--all sensation is forgotten and lost unto them. their leader, their beloved hero, the only person they have any real stock in... has just challenged them. perhaps, the apostles might think, if this is the messiah, doesn't he already know what i'm going to do? either way, they realize they definitely have the choice now. hard teachings will come a hundredfold by the time Jesus reaches Golgotha. this is one of the moments they can leave him and blend with the crowd.

given the choice, every time i face a hard teaching, it takes me weeks, often, to face up to what Jesus' words and example will mean for me. and these hard teachings will come a hundredfold by the time i reach Sheol. ever moment is one of those moments when i can leave him and slip into the massive deserting crowd. it's just too easy.

but with those eyes on the verge of tears, i already know i've got to stick by my master, my Father, the one who's invested so much in me. ignoring the sun, the wind, the sand... i've got to cross the line onto the other side. a daily Alamo challenge.

i think the whole Church faces it. there's not much we can do if we really know who we're hurting by saying no. if we really know who we're loving and pleasing by saying yes.

as each of the twelve cross the invisible line and move closer to their Rabbi--their Lord--they watch the tears in his eyes fade. a stray tear slides silently down his cheek. not one of the apostles blames him for it. greeted with a warm embrace, one by one, in the gathering dusk, this weak-seeming gesture is turned on its head and used in the most profound way it's ever been used troughout the course of all eternal history. in fact, they likely think, this is why i love him more--because he shows us how much he loves us. and this reciprocal love before the twelve sinners even have an inkling of the cross to come.

we know about the overabundance of love and sacrifice because the cross has already come. the Church needs to understand who she's betrothed to. we need to be faithful. to every word of teaching. to every gesture of acceptance. to every example of truth. to every ounce of real love.

Peace be with us all. in Jesus' name.

Church

"in relation to the Kingdom of God--what about the Church? firstly, she's not to draw attention to herself. as soon as she does so, she's lost the power and authority given her."
-Tony Taylor, of England (our speaker for the week, here at the DTS).

it's a grave reminder to me personally, as i begin an endeavor to write a critique on the Church's most "popular" problems she's facing today. perhaps common is a better word. but i'm sure that the former will actually shed more light on it, in some ways.

sadly, i'm walking a very tight rope in writing this little essay, since i am in danger of drawing attention not only to the Church, but also to myself. as much as i hope my [comparatively incredibly uneducated] words are taken seriously, respected and understoof... the last thing i want is the attention of others in the Church.

just as Marx and Engel became almost as famous as their Manifesto, and Luther as famous as his Theses (to the point where frankly all i know about the Theses is that it stood against indulgences, and i know much more about Luther himself).

it worries me that theologians generally have big names. Dr. King calls it the "Drum-Major Instinct". and i am not at all calling out any theologians for striving to be as famous as their theology. but it is interesting to me that they seem like they are not disappearing like Bobby Fisher. but then again, that generated more publicity than his known achievements.

so i guess it's not so purely an example of Dr. King's fear--though there are examples such as Bishop Spong--rather i believe it is a symptom of a leader-starved world. we're so lacking in strong leaders, as the world has nearly every generation since the Judges began to rule Israel. so, of course nearly anyone we can set our eyes on who knows what they're talking about, we nearly canonize them.

frankly, i've nearly done that very same thing to Tony Taylor as he's been teaching. it's so apparent that God's been speaking through him. and in realizing that we get blinded by the truth that is in front of us, and we stop there, we find an unsettling amount of admiration within ourselves toward the creation and not the Creator. we fail to move on, following in the direction the truth is leading us...