Every season, the three teams that finish last in the Barclays Premier League get relegated to the Championship, meaning they lose their place in the top twenty teams of the BPL. This makes for a really intense football season, because even the best teams can quickly drop into the relegation zone. The danger is real, making the football season a fight for survival for some of the lower teams. Those slots can be filled with teams from lower divisions, but a team has to fight to earn a place in the elite twenty BPL teams. This system makes for some great football. But it’s a horrible system for theology.
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Sweet, Holy Providence
Thank you for road blocks,
For cold stops,
For forced glances at clocks,
For sin is crouching at the door;
Sin – such as I adore;
Sin – donning such masks as
Joy and peace and
Satisfaction. Finally, though, they fall off.
Every mask falls off.
And what is left exposed? Only this:
The bitter taste of counterfeit bliss,
The savory stench of a stolen kiss
Placed upon the lips of death.
That road is always a dead end,
And there is always, in the ignorant mind,
Time to turn back.
So thank you for forced glances
At the minute hand as it dances,
For cold stops on cold nights,
For road blocks that open up the way
To the true Road.
Boldness
Youth ministry can be a challenge.
Ok, that’s an understatement. Let me try again:
Youth ministry is a crucible through which one’s faith is put to the test in frightening and unimaginable ways. But that’s not to say there isn’t joy there as well.
Day 121
The storm is here. Through the windows I watch the trees bend in the wind, the water fall upon the roads. All is washed by the downpour. The dark clouds threatened rain for hours before the first drops fell from heaven, leaving us in a strange state of anticipation and dread. Though we were resigned to face the inevitable, we knew not what lay ahead. Such has been our lot for many months. Continue reading
Apathy
Five-Year Plans and Faith
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
Proverbs 3:5-6
Christians, myself included, love these two verses. If you type “Proverbs 3:5-6″ into Google and click the “Shopping” tab, you’ll find this passage printed on bookmarks, bracelets, post-it notes, pillows, iPhone covers, rings, shirts, coffee mugs, key chains, dog tags, posters, canvas art, chalkboard prints, and those hip, plank-board wall decorations. You can even get this verse printed on a skateboard deck (Yep, you read that right). And while we don’t expect to receive any divine revelation just by drinking from a Proverbs 3:5-6 coffee mug (nor do we expect a Proverbs 3:5-6 skateboard to always roll us where God would have us go), we love to be reminded of God’s promise to direct our steps.
The Tragedy of Apostasy
A dozen knights in finest armor rode
To kill the dev’lish creature of the deep.
From citadels celestial, by the Code,
They journeyed for the safety of the keep.
The party claimed allegiance to their king,
And gladly did they march for him to war,
Until they found the lands of which none sing,
For there they met the monster of the moor.
The beast fought not with sword nor spear, but voice.
It promised untold riches for a knee.
And, one by one, the soldiers made the choice,
And they were felled without the faintest plea.
None were dissuaded by the death of friends;
Such is the tragic end of selfish ends.
Profundity and Clarity
In a strange way, I feel like profundity is equivalent with difficulty. If a piece of art confuses me, or if a poem baffles me, or if a movie leaves me scratching my head, I assume that what I’m observing is quite deep. I believe there to be a meaning hidden below the surface of the medium, and the entire piece becomes a puzzle to figure out. I consider the small details, I hypothesize about possible hints, and I attempt to read between the lines to unravel the mystery hidden in the uncertainty. I noticed this recently when I read T. S. Eliot, or when I listened to Coldplay, or when I watched Eraserhead. I found myself incredibly intrigued (and, at the same time, incredibly confused) by the hiddenness and seeming vagueness of the art. I also found myself inspired by these stories and lyrics, wishing I could write something so deep. Continue reading
My Misunderstanding
Note: This poem is satirical in nature. Psalm 46:10 challenged me lately. I realized that I live all too often as if ministry depends upon my efforts rather than recognizing that God brings the growth. I also realized that I can all too easily sacrifice time with the Lord when school and ministry get demanding. That’s not the right option at all. I need to spend time with God first, and live and work in his strength. This poem, then, is an exaggeration; I don’t actually pray this. But I often live as if I don’t need God for the work he’s called me to do. This poem, in a way, is a confession that I need to learn to “be still” and know that he is God.
“Be still,” you say, “and know that I am God.”
But know ye not, my Lord, that I must move?
I dare not halt or tarry as I trod,
That daily I might my devotion prove.
I have no time to sit and talk with thee
For there are souls who do not know your love.
You simply need to grant my ev’ry plea,
That I might win more souls for heav’n above.
I, Lord, like Martha, see the work to do,
And I, to honor you, would give my all.
I would be known by men as ever true.
I need no other quest, no further call.
You justified me, Lord, by thy good will.
I need naught else, so you can now be still.
Be Still and Know
“Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
Psalm 46:10
I’m not very good at being still. Even as I’m typing this, I’m noticing that I’m always moving: fingers typing as I write, foot tapping as I think, eyes scanning the room as I try to form sentences. I have to make a conscious effort to just be still, or I won’t stop. And this constant movement isn’t confined to fidgeting. My days are filled with tasks stacked upon one another like volumes in a second hand book shop. Between school and work and church, days can feel like mini-marathons.
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as i learn to walk 