My heart will choose to say…

I knew my grade on my chemistry quiz yesterday was certainly not going to be stellar, but when my professor handed it back with a big fat C on the front, my chest deflated of joy. Having been so suddenly plunged into the valley of the shadow of bad grades, I hurried into the rickety, dreary shelter of introspection, hoping that I might realize that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. By the end of the class, I could find no way to justify my poor grade with my hope that it wouldn’t be so bad after all, but I walked away from class with joy and hope anyway.

What might have elicited such an unwarranted response from me? Surely it couldn’t have been my poor grade on my chemistry quiz.

During class, in effort to put my mind off of my grades, I began trying to think about God and the nature of true contentment. I thought that if I reminded myself of the truth, I would sense the comfort and security of knowing God’s nature. Yet as I reminded myself and affirmed in my heart that God is God regardless of my circumstances, I did not feel comforted and I did not gain contentment or joy. I sensed that my there was something wrong with how I was informing my joy.

Where was my error? I dedicated my heart to worship God despite regardless of the circumstances I was in. I was very intentionally rooting my joy in God and not in my circumstances.

Therein lay the problem. I sought to take joy in God despite my circumstances, essentially dismissing my circumstances as irrelevant to how I ought to worship God. But I think that my circumstances ought not to be irrelevant to how I worship God. I think my circumstances ought to greatly affect how I worship Him. It’s not that I must worship God in spite of my circumstances, but I should worship Him because of my circumstances.

And isn’t it in God’s nature to never give me a reason why I shouldn’t worship Him? In light of His promises, how can I not worship Him in all circumstances?

Romans 8:28
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (ESV)

If I truly believe that promise, I will worship God because of my circumstances even though I can’t see the perfect end to God’s plan. I can worship God in all circumstances, simply knowing that God is in control and is working all things for my good.

That’s why I was so happy at the end of my class. In the end, I really was worshiping God for the poor grade on my chemistry quiz. I didn’t know what good would come of my poor grade, but I have firm faith that God will bless me through it and that whatever blessing I may enjoy from that will be even better than a good grade. In light of my circumstances, should they be blessings or otherwise, I am utterly deprived of all reason to not worship God.

Come to think of it, I think I walked out of that class much happier with a C than I would have been had I gotten an A.

*Intermission

Why do humans fall so deeply in love with animals? A pure rationalist would be hard pressed to come up with an answer, and when they did, they must fail to explain why humans fall so deeply in love with animals who can bring no real gain and nothing close to what resembles fulfilling companionship. Yet still, we humans have this utterly irrational tendency to love things and have no reason why.

Animals, on the other hand, have every reason to love their human caretakers. Where else will they get their food? Who (for one reason or another) loves to play with them and give them undeserved attention? Who else, in this wild earth of ours, would give up significant portions of their lives to hold gracious dominion and care over their lives? Our pets have every reason to love and enjoy humans.

Perhaps our love of pets is irrational knowing that any affection our pets may show us is miniscule compared with the fulfillment we find in human relationships. Yet there is a very real side of humans that enjoy the loving dependence a pet can have. Our care and investment may not give us anything of empirical value, but all human souls must love the simple-minded dedication, and the love-unto-death that they have for their dear owners.

Not only do we humans love their love, we must also at least admit that our pets have personalities, if not enjoy them.  Our dog, King, had one of the most lovable personalities ever [EDIT: that is, when he wasn’t being loud and obnoxious]. He was, without a doubt, the friendliest dog I’ve known. If you walked into his eyesight (which was growing worse and worse as he grew older) he automatically would consider you an object worthy of his undying affection and he would do all he could with his old body to enjoy your presence in the fullest possible measure. This was, perhaps, an annoyance too, because one of his favorite ways to enjoy his friend was by a thorough and very slimy tongue-bath. And if he loved anything more than people, it was food. If he sensed that you had a piece of edible substance to share, his ears would perk, his dim eyes would widen follow you as best they could, and his mouth would be ready to engulf whatever substance (edible or not) that was thrown at him.

I suppose that there were many things about King’s personality  that were not so lovable, but I wish I had loved them more. I wish I had not convinced myself that I didn’t like him all that much for his incessant oafishness. I wish I didn’t yell at him when he was being grouchy. I wish I could let him lick my hand at least one more time. But by the time I started wishing that I loved him more, he was growing tired and less able to move around to those places most highly trafficed, he would never bark simply because it hurt him too much, and his tongue had lost most of its vigor (though I’m glad he have my hand a few loving licks for the final time last night). Someone spoke well when they called dogs to be man’s best friend, or at least, those would easily have been true of King.

All this to say that I am grateful for that dog. God have him to us probably about 14 years ago and this morning, it was time for him to go.

You were a good dog bub. I loved you, even though I don’t know why. No one loved being loved like you did. I don’t care what everyone else says, you were the best golden retriever ever, no arguments allowed.

Boys will be boys (part 2)

Growing up isn’t something that happens without decisiveness, work, and trials. It’s not something that just happens with age. Often though, with age comes trials and experiences and desires that will force boys and young men to grow up to become men. But in this post-modern era, the world has been making every possible effort for the incentives to manhood to be negated. These trials, experiences and desires which all might make a boy grow into manhood are all either translated into the immaturity of boyhood, eliminated, or replaced by something else altogether.

“Boys will be boys.” Thus goes that age old maxim. Indeed, this saying has never been more true than now. Boys will be boys and the world will do everything it can to keep them from growing into men.

Not many generations ago, boys were expected to grow into hard-working men with honest desires and goals for their lives. Since then, the culture’s expectations have fallen. I can’t tell from experience where we have fallen from, but I can tell from experience that our culture’s expectations of boys and young men have certainly not been raised these past few generations. Now, the thought of boys growing into men seems like romantic nostalgia from a black and white TV show. There is not a lot of hope and trust placed into this generation’s young men. Today’s young men sense this lack of hope and retaliate by underachieving.

And our generation of young men is fully meeting our culture’s expectations if not surpassing them–in a bad way. Our culture expects boys and young men to be foolishly destructive of their lives and the lives of others. Men are expected to be dispassionate and disinterested in matters of great importance while they are passionately interested in the next big thrill. Let’s face it. If there’s one thing that this culture is rotten at doing, it’s making boys grow into men. I have to wonder if this isn’t what the cultural elite have planned all along. If not, they’ve shown terrible foresight.

A few generations ago, manhood would often be a goal largely motivated by the natural desire for the intimacy of marriage. That’s long since become a quaint old virtue. Now, the thrill of sex is something that kids can enjoy too. To make the deal even more irresistible, every provision has been made to ensure that children can enjoy this activity with absolutely no consequences for their actions. Fatherhood is no longer something that necessarily follows the act. All kinds of provisions, from birth control to abortion without parental notification have been accepted into the standards of society. Of course all those are provisions made to the mother to allow her to choose to avoid motherhood if she wants. If the mother in fact does decide to let the child live, the father can simply walk away from the whole situation. Yes, even the treachery of walking away from an intimate relationship has been largely accepted into society. All this because some children didn’t want to actually grow up when they committed a grown-up act. This immorality is expected by our culture if it isn’t outright encouraged.

It also to be assumed that a boy would eventually learn the urgency of strong, hard workers to hold together the fabric of society and take their role as a man through the educational system. Slowly, and surely, the roles are changing. While the educational system does not fail to teach boys how to become men in the work force, the emphasis in social issues is clearly on women. The feminist movement is promising that women can do just as good a job as men can do. This message is heard by more than just the women of this country. The boys and men of this country hear this also and have to wonder at how much they can actually do for the world. Thus, men feel less and less determined to do their best for society and to actually give a rip for what happens in the world. Again, this carelessness has been adopted into the society’s expectation of young men.

While, the cultural and intellectual elites have their albatross on their necks, those in charge of the media have their own guilt on this issue. While the cultural elite have diluted the vision of manhood, those in charge of hollywood and the video game industry have disillusioned young men with a false sense of manhood. While the ideals glorified by these industries are, without a doubt, masculine, the exaggeration and the wallowing in these ideals are a far cry from getting to the heart of what biblical manhood is. The God-given characteristics of strength, and steadfastness have been mistranslated into violence, stubbornness, filthy language, and foolishness and glorified as the essence of manliness.

All this to say, this is not the kind of man I aspire to be. I fully intend to startle the lame expectations of the culture and frustrate the way it thinks about men. God willing, My life is not going to be themed by narcissism and greed; I am not going to live from thrill to thrill but from blessing to blessing from God’s hand; I am not going to selfishly pursue romantic-ish relationships with girls at my leisure, but I will search for one and only one; I will not be dispassionate about the responsibilities God has given to me, but I will resolve to do what God empowers me to do to fulfill them.

If girls become men… (Part 1)

A professor from UMBC (University of Maryland Baltimore County) was visiting Hood college to have lunch with science majors with an interest in grad school to help them gain a better understanding of the experience and the preparation for grad school. Being highly interested in possibly gaining a PhD in the sciences, I eagerly jumped at the opportunity and even missed a class to attend this and learn from him.

I caught the group as they were heading for the building and the bio-chemistry professor welcomed me to the group and introduced me to the visiting professor. “Excellent! Peter will be joining us today. We have quite a variety of students gathered for this.”

She was wrong. There was very little variety at all. With the exception of myself, all the students interested in going to grad school were all girls. Where were all the guys?

I walked away from that time more educated. The visiting professor helped me to understand what I’m in for, and the group itself gave me first-hand experience of a growing trend which, I believe, deserves attention.

Upon further research, I stumbled upon a few numbers. Apparently the college environment is growing less and less heterogeneous every year. The point of equilibrium was hit somewhere in the early 80s when the number of women roughly equaled the number of men in college. Yet the situation did not remain at equilibrium, the number of women in American universities rose above the number of men. By 1990, about six women graduated with bachelor’s degrees for every five men. Right now, it’s about four women for three men. It is projected that in a decade, the divide will be even greater; about three women for two men.*

Although I think it is an excellent thing that college campuses these days are populated by women who want to do something with their lives, my overall reaction to this statistic is one of concern. While one contributing factor to this statistic may be the encouragement that young women receive to further advance their future through higher education, the main factor involved in the formation of this ratio is in the fact that fewer and fewer young men want to get a higher education.

What we are witnessing is more than just more women and less men graduating from college. This stands for the reversal of male and female roles that the feminist movement has called for. The pulse of the feminist movement has been for women to jump into roles commonly held by men and traditionally associated with men. With girls suddenly growing into women who take those several roles of manhood, what reason do boys have to grow into men?

The battle cry of the feminist movement has been telling boys that their natural masculinity is no longer needed, that women can fill men’s roles just fine. While this may encourage the hearts of the feminist elites, very few things can displace a boys natural aspiration of manhood than the voice of feminism saying “No thanks. We’re doing great without you.”

What does a boy become in a world where girls are taught to become women who fill a man’s role in society?

Our the post-modern culture is undergoing this experiment even now. Only time will tell. Yet there is one thing I am sure of: I will not be among the test subjects of boys.

Thus, I begin my first blogging mini-series. For better or for worse, I intend to give at least two following posts in which I shall explore God’s standard for biblical manhood and how the culture matches up to it.

*Statistics taken from the following online article.

http://www.reason.com/news/show/124402.html

Providence

A long while ago, I was partaking in one of my favorite rituals of passively staring and musing at the sky. This particular day, as I was gazing at the sky, I became distracted and eventually captivated by a certain bird. The bird flew insanely with no discernable pattern to its flight. It turned and spun and twisted and dove frantically as if it were pursuing an invisible foe, except it wasn’t chasing anything; it was just flying. If nothing else in the world could be truly random, this bird was.

Caught in my musings, I sank deeper in this thought. If God is truly a provident God who has a plan for everything that He does, what plan did He have for this aimless sparrow? What purpose did God have for this purposeless little bird? 

As my eyes followed this bird in its whimsical dance, my mind tried to make order of my frenzy of thoughts and hypotheses. Perhaps this sparrow was searching eccentrically for a provision of food with which to feed her children. Maybe one of her children had fallen out of the nest and she was urgently seeking it. Maybe she truly was just as purposeless as she appeared and God had no plan for her except to be seen by me.

Suddenly, in the midst of my raging thoughts, my mind heard a quiet yet authoritative voice utter something which caused the storm in my head to be still. Maybe God’s plan for this sparrow was so that I would be caused to wonder about God’s providence. 

I must have grinned rather gleefully since this thought very much tickled my mind, for if that was truly what God’s plan was, it worked joyously. It is true that no effect is caused unless it is the effect which God had planned. It is also true that I was wondering about God, not doubting Him, but believing in His character and trying to perceive His plan. I certainly cannot know the fullness of God’s design for anything, but I believe that God showed me that silly sparrow so that I would wonder about God’s plan for it and that my faith-filled pondering of God’s plan would be almost like a work of God’s plan in and of itself. 

It’s odd how God uses experiences seemingly void of purpose to work things out for His plan. In that trivial observation of a small bird acting in petty lightness, I asked God why it was so. I didn’t see fully why, but God showed me that it was for my good. I can love this mystery. In my mind, I have likened the mystery of God’s providence over events of marginal value to God’s providence over my trials and sufferings. I may ask why, and God may decide to let me live in quest of the answer, yet He does not let me wonder that His plan is anything less than the best of all possibilities. I can love this mystery as well.

I think I love my God.

Randomness… Seriously

No, dear reader, don’t judge this post to be nothing more than another one of those this-is-what-happened-today-and-here-are-the-random-thoughts-which-I-found-funny posts by its title. I know that there are countless other posts with that title which unhappily resemble what happens when a scrabble board is very ungraciously upturned. This post should not resemble one of these.

Instead of this post consisting of such offhandedness, this post is intended to be a level-headed yet frank analysis of what I believe is the recent phenomenon of randomness.

I know the chaos theory carries a lot of implications on the world of science, but I would not have imagined that this would expand into such social comprehensions as humor and entertainment, but it has. I think I am not alone in observing how randomness has taken everyday comedy by storm (need I remind you all of the painful idiocy of the Badgerbadger craze or the poor fellows responsible for the making of Forehead Shavecut?). Yes people, this phenomenon is now so significant now that it has at last warranted the apex of its fame on my lightly visited personal blog.

One thing that vexes me about this issue has to do with how universal this sense of humor isn’t. As far as I can tell, the primary enjoyers of this humor is clearly college students, teens, and pre-teens. One knows that an odd thing has happened in the minds of youth when the phrase “that makes no sense at all,” has been transformed from a denunciation of utter foolishness into an accolade of good humor. Yet the majority of adults whom I know simply don’t understand nor appreciate this kind of humor. (I’m sure I don’t really understand this kind of humor either yet I do strangely appreciate it.)

I am no less guilty than any other person of being one who has enjoyed and is still entertained through this method. Yet I honestly don’t know how to make sense of this nonsensical phenomenon. My gut reaction when I stand back to think of this tells me that this certainly can’t be a good thing. After all, randomness in the world of comedy is definitely no replacement for true wit. When listening to an old Bill Cosby track or reading a comedy by Shakespeare and then comparing those with contemporary entertainers such as HomestarRunner or those nameless aliases out on youtube who seem to whimsically post ridiculous cartoons of whatever rolls off the tops of their heads, there really is no comparison.

However, when I do find myself mysteriously drawn to click on a link that a friend has spammed my inbox with, I often find myself laughing on the verge of tears. After all, doesn’t all humor involve at least an element of the unexpected or the out of the ordinary? I really don’t know exactly where I stand on this whole phenomenon.

Whether or not elemental randomness ought to be considered a facet of true humor or not, there is one thing I certainly do not waver on with regards to this issue. That this whole randomness thing has gone way to far to the point that it often isn’t funny anymore. In fact, it’s gotten to the point that it’s often just annoying. No, randomness in a polite conversation generally is not very funny nor is it stimulating to conversation. No, I will not suffer through a whole blog post which is full of discombobulated sentences, jokes with no punchline and other such nonsense. No, I do not want to live in a world where Napoleon Dynamite has replaced Victor Borge or the Bill Cosby show.

I can find no rhyme or reason why the randomness phenomenon has reared it’s ridiculous head at this generation, but I suppose that is all in randomness’s nature. Honestly, I almost wish it would go away. Where have the steady and quickly stated quips and retorts gone? They have been replaced by unconfident and desperate phrases like “wanna buy a duck?” and other such oddities.

This sort of humor is certainly an odd sort. It is very simple, yet very entertaining. One doesn’t actually have to be clever and intelligent to be funny in this sort of way. All they need is spontaneity; a trait which every four-year old has. As much as I will enjoy the pure random humor at times, I have to admit it is a sort of guilty pleasure. Yet I am grateful that God has given it to me. It is truly kind of God to give me a sense of humor by which a rather poorly-witted young man, such as myself, can somehow bring joy to others.

In summary, I do enjoy random humor immensely (more than most people I know). Yet as much as I enjoy it, the entertainment it gives me cannot penetrate as deeply as the joy I get from hearing true wit in action. Random humor I find is much more suited for those late nights when all I have to do is remain conscious. But true wit lightens my day and gives me joy as I am actually living life. No, randomness can most certainly not come close to being a worthy substitute for true humor.

This is not my conclusion on my thoughts on the matter. I like thinking about such things as humor and joy, so I will prolong my final conclusion for as long as possible. I hope that my readers enjoy to think about these sorts of things as much as I do. Until next time, I shall not try to restrain myself from laughing guiltily at a random occurence or phrase. I will try my best to enjoy all the things which I believe God has given me to enjoy, as I hope you will do as well.

…And Grace will lead me home

The future that this coming year holds truly is a frightening thing for me. The possibilities of the future are both exciting and terrifying. In the storm of this world of politics, wars, finances, and religion, how can I be certain of anything about this future?

Perhaps the future may be uncertain, yet over one thing, my mind does not doubt. I know that whatever may come of this world, God remains faithfully gracious to me. I have only to look back on the past to know this.

God has made my path straight for me when it comes to school. I only applied to one school, and God has graciously allowed me to go to this school being fully financially supported by scholarships. God has blessed me greatly in simply providing this means of education to me. Yet God had so many more blessings to show me.

Still my school may have been a greater trial than it was had not God provided strong Christian accountability on campus there. I have been blessed this past semester to be in two of the same classes with one of my best friends through high school who is perhaps one of the strongest Christians I know. To those Christians at my school, thank you for coming to Hood. Your presence there is an encouragement to me and conversations with you there are like breaths of air after being submerged in an ocean of hostility to my faith and my conscience. You have been a great blessing from God to me this past semester.

There were many times this semester when I wondered if I would fail to complete a large assignment. It was hard, and many times my weary legs were forced to kneel in prayer and submit it all to God. God was indeed very faithful and strengthened me when I was despairing of strength. I pressed through the tests, projects, quizzes, and papers by God’s grace. So now I stand here at the end of a semester looking in amazement at my grades. These grades, though indeed the fruit of my labors, truly are ascribed to God and his faithfulness to provide strength in my time of need.

Relationally, this year has been hard. God has given me faith to continue to sow in Frederick. Still, my best friends live in Gaithersburg and it hurts to be separated from them. Despite all this, I know I am not alone. My family have become dearer friends to me through this and I have also learned the importance and the joy in reaching out and befriending people who I wouldn’t otherwise know. Yes, even through my trials I see that God is truly working things for my good.

These are only samples of God’s abundant blessing on my life this past year. I have so much more to recount, and I cannot wait till that day when I can look back and see God at work and discover all the unknown ways in which he blessed me. I don’t know about this, but I imagine that it will be much like a treasure hunt, and when I find another way in which God had blessed me, it would be like discovering that I was so much richer than I had ever imagined myself. I am truly rich with God’s blessings in ways I can’t know.

So here I am, only 14 hours and 27 minutes into 2008, still trembling at all the wonderful and terrible things that can be made of this year. Yet looking back, I see God’s hand at work in the past year. God will be no less good this year than He was last year. Yes, I am ready for this step of faith, knowing that God Himself is the one who supports me and works all things for my good.

A year ago, 2007 was the dreadful year full of great and awful possibilities. Yet, looking back, I see how God was fully in control of it. He has not made this past year into anything less than the best it possibly could have been for me. Truly, amazing grace! I expect nothing less from this coming year because the same God is in control. I know that whatever does come, whether it be a trial or a gift, will, in the end, be a blessing to me which I will thank God for on that day. I look back on this past year and find the courage to look ahead to the future, not in fear, but with trust and hope in the God who has promised only good for me.

 

Through many dangers toils and snares
I have already come
Twas grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home.

Just for fun

When I was little, I was quite an adventurer. I can’t even begin to count how many islands I was stranded on, how many dragons I’ve slain, and how much treasure I had amassed. I was also an avid alchemist. A plastic baseball bat, when it was gripped in my hands suddenly became a magical sword or, if I held it just so, it would become a machine gun. My imagination was a very powerful weapon.

Once, I was fighting giant crabs at our beach. There was still an army of them left and none of them were going to die without a sound whack from my mighty sword. Then I noticed a shell on the beach. Instantly, I destroyed the crabs with my imagination as I explored my precious find. I picked it up and underneath it I found a great treasure. It was nothing but a clear glass marble, but, in my mind, it was a pearl. I kept this pearl with religious care and I never let my brothers and sisters play with this marble as if it were a common marble. It was far more precious to me than those.

In a few years, I lost this pearl, and though I looked and looked for it time and time again, I was never able to find my treasure.

Recently, as we were digging through Christmas ornaments to put on our tree, I was scraping the bottom of the container that we keep them in. And what did I happen to find but a clear glass marble? My heart jumped and my eyes were fixed in awe of what I had found. I picked up this piece of my past. It was like I had found my childish imagination again after having lost it so many years ago.

As we finished decorating the Christmas tree, I wondered what my next activity ought to be. I thought about playing computer games and then I sternly rebuked myself. How could I play computer games when there were so many dragons to be slain? I went over to my neighbor’s house to play with their kids. Unfortunately, they did not want to swing a plastic bat to destroy the hoards of ferocious flying lizards, but they did want to enlist my help in their epic battle with the Sith Lords. So gladly did I pick up a stick, turn it into a lightsaber, and swing frantically as the Sith Lord enticed us to the dark side. I am glad to say that Earth is no longer in danger of the Sith Lords.

I enjoy my childlike imagination, as immature as it may sound. Oh well. I know what real life is and I know how to live it. But every now and then, I just need to release my silly imagination, be a kid and play with kids again, and have another adventure with them.

Long days

Turmoil and stress would be a heartfelt description of my weekdays. Classes, homework, tests, deadlines, bad grades, lecture, lecture, lecture, come home and prepare for another similar day. Monday through Friday, I repeat this process and my joy grows darker and darker.

Come Saturday, I had mostly forgotten why I’m still a Christian and who I’m living for. I gladly take the blessing of Saturdays, but I somehow don’t enjoy it as I should. I’m stressed and it is very obvious that I am. Yet when I’m asked how I’m doing, I find it hard to answer. I really don’t know. I haven’t had the spiritual stamina to examine that. I might think for a while about how I’m doing, and all I’d come up with is a list of things that I need to do. A good hint that I’m anxious.

It’s a good thing weekends have Sundays. Pure joy would be my heartfelt description of Sundays.

Sunday comes, and I’m very ready for some spiritual edification. Praise God I have a church home. A day ago, I was trying to remember what God is like. Now, I’m standing in the third row singing Come Thou Fount and I remember just who I’m living for and why I’m doing this for Him. I can’t say it’s a tangible thought. It may just be a feeling, but the feeling makes me want to keep going through another week and to fight for joy throughout the hardships.

After I’ve enjoyed worship and been enriched by a gospel-centered sermon, I enjoy a rare treat for me: I get to indulge in watching and playing with kids. I walk down to SPLASH where Mr. C. has the kids busily bopping beach balls all around the room. The sheer simplicity of their enjoyment is enough to bring me joy.

There’s some young boys plotting something in the corner. Their grins can’t hide from me. Maybe they plan to thoroughly spray me down with juice boxes again. Maybe they’re going to trick someone into saying something stupid. Maybe they just want to find some big guy to jump on and tackle. I keep my eye on them so I don’t miss a second of their scheme.

One of my favorite little girls says “hi” to me. I go over and talk with her and ask her about how she’s doing. For just a little while, I enjoy her small little world about her friends, horses, her favorite movies, her last birthday party, the bracelet she’s wearing and completely forget about my world. I pray a silent prayer for this girl, that God would draw her closer and closer to Him and that her little world would be wholly immersed in God.

Time to leave church and go over to some friends’ house and watch a game of football with a large group of people. I have some homework, but I can still enjoy being with the people, watch the game, and study for my astronomy test. Eventually, the passion of the crowd wins me away from my academic adventure and I heartily cheer my Redskins to a proud victory. It truly is sweet fellowship.

Finally, I return home tired and simultaneously renewed. Yes, I barely have the mental capacity to write this, yet I feel strong enough to wrestle another beastly week.

Monday, by God’s grace, I am ready for you and your host of classes, homework, tests, deadlines, bad grades, lectures, lectures, and lectures. I’ll fight through you cause I know that just on the other side of Friday is Saturday, and right after that comes that precious day when I enjoy fellowship with God’s people.

My future, likewise I’ll fight through you because I know that just on the other side there is a Sabbath that will not end by giving me up to another hard week.

“Jesus died for the world’s sins”

So there I was, sitting in the basement of some nameless building at Hood College. I was with my orientation group which was subdivided into smaller breakout groups for this particular session. The topic for today was Harmony at Hood, which was basically a time for people to share what stereotypes and prejudices they have against certain social groups.

Orientation group leaders had early on stated that a stereotype was a generally accepted idea of what people from a social group are supposed to be like.

My group had been given the relatively neutral task of sharing what stereotypes we ascribe to Asians. We did our job, and I must say that there was not much content in there that would be objectionable content at all. So naturally I was hoping for, yet not quite expecting, the same general outcome for the social groups that I would affiliate with.

Now imagine how I cringed and braced myself when I heard that a group was designated to list the stereotypes that they have of Christians. They listed things like, proud, ignorant, immoral, hypocritical and many other things of that sort. I recounted the list of what was read, and there was not a single stereotype granting any good trait, or even a neutral trait, in it.

If this was not discouraging enough, the following conversation bit even deeper into my heart. The proctoring professor (who was the professor of sexuality at Hood btw) went on to note in a very friendly and open-minded tone of voice that, “Even though Christians are always talking up a storm about family values, the statistics show that more pregnancies resulting from out of wedlock come from the evangelical Christian circle than from any other social group.”

What could I say? Did we not earn this name for ourselves by allowing these sins to go on and allowing those who do not submit to Christ’s rule to wear Christ’s name tag? I could not say, in the proper context, that Christians did not earn such a notoriously hypocritical stereotype in the world.

Lost in my unnerved state, I stopped paying attention to think about myself. Yes, I could easily fit into those categories laid out. I am very proud. I simply don’t know enough to reconcile my faith with certain worldviews. The immorality of my heart disgusts me the more I learn about it. And my hypocrisy mocks any witness I might have. What do I have to set me apart from these stereotypes?

Amid my dreary introspection, my ears perked to a certain phrase. It wasn’t said dramatically; it was just being listed as something about Christians. It wasn’t said with conviction; I doubt the person who said it was a Christian. Yet the truth of this phrase caught me, and I listened to it.

“Jesus died for the world’s sins.”

It was a breath of fresh air in the stagnant air of the world. Finally someone spoke a truth, and the truth spoke to me.

What makes me different from any other sinner or makes my witness any more valid that any other person who claims to be a Christian? My sin is the same, so why should I pretend to be different? Because of the fact that I have been forgiven by God and am no longer under the condemnation of sin and have been given, by God’s grace, His own Holy Spirit and the power to fight sin and pursue holiness to God’s glory.

I had almost forgotten that my message was not that all Christians are good people. My message is Christ and Him crucified.

***Currently listening to the Main Thing (part 1) and The Main Thing (part 2). Yes they are for free, and yes, you must listen to them.