Yehoshua.
"...Jesus in disguise."
~~Teresa of Calcutta~~When I moved into The Pad three and a half months ago, I was truly expecting to leave jaded. A terribly bad living situation and a horribly broken relationship that literally ripped my heart asunder prior to that were cause enough for my apprehension. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. It’s an irrational mindset, but sometimes it is easier to err on the side of extreme caution, rather than subject one’s soul to a kind of death.
“Josh Taylor is kind of a brash individual.” Those were my thoughts moving into the house. Beside the fact the domicile was up for sale, it was one of my main reasons for not wanting to move into the place. Brashness seems to be a Taylor family trait. If you ever want to know what a Taylor is thinking, just ask. They’ll tell you without an ounce of minced wording. If you’re not ready for it, it might seem a bit annoying. Josh isn’t afraid to let you know if he thinks something is retarded. But, as it was, I didn’t have any other options, so I would just have to suck it up if I wanted to stave off my encroaching homelessness.
There are, I imagine, very few things that can make a man feel utterly humiliated. Some would more willingly leap to their own death than suffer such a fate. When I came and sat down before Josh, to let him know my situation—that my roommates were kicking me out, with prejudice—it was humiliating. I didn’t have much in the way of finances to offer him. Jobs consisted of small moving jobs and bank-owned property evictions here and there. The offer was laid on the table to pay him a certain amount a month, but I think he knew already it would be difficult or impossible to live up to the standard I was setting for myself. But, as Providence would have it, against his better judgment, Josh allowed me to stay there for the three and a half months before gong to Rochester College or until the house was sold—whichever came first.
Lots of conversations took place during our time living together. Conversations about everything under the sun. The location of these exchanges were varied. Parks. Bars. Sports arenas. Home Depot. Lowes. Car rides. Movie theatres. The subject matter was equally varied. Jesus. Sex. Women. Dating. C.S. Lewis. Fears. Friendships. You name it, we talked about it. There were a lot of things we didn’t agree upon. There were a lot of things we did. And, we were both pleasantly surprised to find out certain things about the other.
Yard work was key around the house this summer. Weeds had grown up all around the property, which are unsightly to potential homebuyers. So, the two of us set about digging up the sides of the house, digging up behind the garage, and cutting down shrubbery and trees obscuring the house in the front yard. It was intensive labor. During this time, many of our conversations took place, with a good dose of Rush Limbaugh ranting or raving about how the Democrats are idiots playing somewhere in the background. I won’t bore you with the details of each of our conversations, but I will tell you that each of these singular moments added up to a greater whole, consummating in my preparedness to enter the collegiate world again.
A few weeks ago, Josh and I were hanging out at our friend Dena’s house. Amongst the laughter and discussion, Dena made allusion to the fact Josh’s name comes from the Hebrew, Yehoshua, meaning “The Lord is Salvation.” Although it was said in jest amongst friends, there was not a moment during my time at The Pad when this fact was wasted upon me.
It is no mistake that my friend Josh bears the same name as my Savior, Jesus, who is the Christ. In a lot of ways, Josh is like Christ. While I don’t stake the salvation of my eternal soul on Yehoshua Taylor, he mirrors the saving grace and compassion and truthfulness of Yehoshua, who is the Christ.
Matthew 25:35,36 reads, “For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.” Yehoshua Taylor was the epitome of this verse in my life. He has been the very picture of Yehoshua of Nazareth. Sacrificial. Understanding. Patient. Kind. Truthful. These are all things Josh was willing to be, even when people disagreed with him. Even if his unabashed willingness to tell the truth is mistaken by some as a brash attitude. Even if I disagreed with him.
There’s no moral to the story here. There are things in this universe that are quite rare. Yehoshua Taylor is a rarity…one that will not be forgotten, as he has changed my life as only Christ before him was able to do.
And So It Begins...
People think I’m being a bit dramatic about leaving for school…as if we’ll never see each other again. “It’s only Rochester, Calvin,” they say. They’re right. It is only Rochester. It’s not all that far. Should we want to hang out, the idea is not entirely unfeasible.
I guess, I’m just know you can never go home. You’ll always have a place, of course. But, you can never go home again. Mainly because, you’re not the same person anymore. Chances are, neither are they.
My focus remains today. I’ll never get to tomorrow if things are not this way. However, one can’t help but wonder what life might be like 5 years from now? After a person has run the intellectual gamut what does the future hold for them?
So, I’ve got this nice apartment that provides me the isolation I need if I require it. My stuff is mostly unpacked. Took a bit to figure out how I wanted everything to be situated in the room. And if I want community, just across the quad awaits a lounge that is always filled with people. There’s a lot of teenagers laughing and carrying on. But, people are people and I enjoy the noise.
I know who I am today. Painfully aware. I wonder who I’ll be when this is all done.
Earthy.
No one in their right mind would say Solomon didn’t get horny when he was writing Song of Songs. I don’t think the Song of Songs has anything to do with God, either. At least, I don’t think that’s what Solomon had on his mind when he was writing it. Solomon wanted to be in love and get it on. His bride in the song did, too. It’s kind of a dirty little duet, with some of their friends thrown in as backup singers. I can’t imagine visions of angels surrounding the throne of God were dancing around in his brain. He was probably aiming for something closer to the Yin-Yang Twins, Wait (The Whisper Song) than he was to Delirious’ I Could Sing of Your Love Forever. The bride is no different. She goes on and on, talking about Solomon’s manhood, inviting him to “come into his garden and eat its choicest fruits.” Pretty randy. Yeah. Not a theologian or anything, but I doubt too many parents would be happy if the Song of Songs were being taught in Children’s Church on Sunday. In Judaism, boys can’t even read it until they’re thirteen years old. In Christianity, I’m not sure when it is, but you better not tell anyone when that day arrives.
So then, The Song of Songs, of course, is a purely erotic book. If there were a Hebrew Poetical Literature store you could shop from in your neighborhood, it would be filed in the Erotica Section. Pretty vulgar, huh? The early church fathers were definitely asleep at the wheel when its canonicity was up for a vote. Could pornographic material possibly be God’s Word?
This raises an interesting question: How are we to read this mysterious book that leaves us with far more questions than it does answers?
To be completely honest, various parts of the Bible were written expressly for different audiences with different emphases in mind. That's why Genesis 1 and 2 have slightly varied creation accounts, each written to a singular audience to reveal distinct characteristics of God to them. Take the Gospels. Take the Pauline Epistles. Right now, today, we use the Bible to mean what it applies to us as. We hardly benefit from books as they were intended because we don't live in the situations in which they were written. Practical application is what we take from it.
But, we forget the Bible is a very earthy book. It features an all-star cast of prophets, priests, kings, beggars, harlots, thieves, liars, slaves, blue collar workers, white collar workers, no collar workers. All of these people met God somewhere on earth. They did not leave this reality (Well, John’s experience was pretty trippy) to experience God on another plane of existence. They met Him right here…on this planet. It deals quite frankly with their fears. Their disobedience. Their doubts. Their triumphs. Their failures. Their horniness. And, above all, their questions. So, though we don’t live in the exact situations as those in Ancient Palestine, we share one tangible thing in common—human experience.
Pastor Rob Bell, in his book Velvet Elvis, remarks, “When we treat the Bible as if it floats in space, unattached to when and where it actually happened, we are basically saying that God gave us the wrong kind of book. It is a book of ancient narratives. We cannot make it something it is not.”
So, what do we need to do to read the Bible for all it’s worth? Do we need to get a degree in Biblical History in order to better understand the context? Well, that’s part of the route I’m taking, but I am a firm believer that whether we understand the context or not, God’s Word can speak to us. But, when we come to the Bible—when we open up these holy pages to an ancient world—we must understand that the writers are writing to people who understood completely where they were coming from.
Where was Solomon coming from? He was coming from a place we’ve all been. That’s what makes Song of Songs so powerful. Where was Mark coming from when he wrote his Gospel according to the coronation ceremonies of the Roman Emperor? Where was John coming from when he mentions the first three miracles of Christ? Were they arbitrary or were they direct assaults against Dionysus, Asclepius, and Demeter, three major gods of Asia Minor? How about Paul’s mentioning to Timothy of women being saved in childbirth? Was he not making allusion to the goddess Artemis, the patron deity of Ephesus?
We need to the read the Bible as if it is real. Not in the sense of believing it’s real. (That is not something we can do without the movement of God.) But, in a sense of knowing that these things happened. They still happen. The Church spends so much time looking for messages beneath the surface. Sure. They’re in there. Don’t get me wrong. But, what’s the use in looking for the hidden message if you’ve missed the one that’s right on the surface?
The Bible was written to and for the people of Earth. But, it is about God’s interaction with those same people. Ancient and future. Keep that in mind.
Fat Kid on a Teeter-Totter
I have removed my previous blog entry, The Church of Oral Gratification. After a few conversations with some close friends and numerous negative remarks on the blog entry itself, I decided against my better judgment to delete it from the site. This may be a testament to my willingness to listen to Godly counsel or it may be a testament to my unwillingness to follow the voice of God. Honestly, I think it to be a mixture of both.
The argument was presented that my methodlogy was drowning out the message; that I was throwing a fat kid (methodology) on one side of the teeter-totter and launching the poor, skinny kid (message) high into the stratosphere. If that is the case, given that this blog is meant for mass consumption, then I have failed as a communicator.
The hardest thing, I suppose, is that despite all the criticism and Godly counsel, I feel as if I am sinning more by deleting it than I would be by keeping it posted. Yes. An extreme picture was painted. Very extreme. So extreme that no accusations of sensationalism could adequately be thwarted. So extreme that it would always appear wrong to one person or another. But, I truly felt the picture painted in the manner in which it was originally painted was the picture God wanted me to paint.
What is done is done, though. Maybe I'll revisit the idea at some point. Right now, I feel it would be a disservice to repost the entry in a modified form, in a manner less than what I feel God instructed me to do. For the moment, however, I am pulling the article, pulling back, considering the counsel, praying for fresh perspective from God, and wondering if I'll ever have a clear-cut answer this side of eternity.
I'm feeling really discouraged by this. I truly am. Some people wanted to shake their heads at me and wonder why they've walked with me through so much. Now that the entry is removed, they will rejoice at my repentance...or, at least in my willingness to give them their way. How do I feel about it? Well, I want to throw my hands up and wonder why I walk with God when His will is rarely clear. It's as if I'm so laced with wrongness that even when He tells me to do something, I somehow mangage to do it incorrectly.
Yahweh's peace.
Something New.--Look Ma! No Hands!
Today Was My Birthday.
"Birthdays are good for you.
Statistics show that the people who
have the most live the longest."
~~Father Larry Lorenzoni~~
So, today was my birthday.
Birthday’s ought to always be enchanting. Remember when Mom and Dad would go all out for you? They’d make the entire day all about you! And when your siblings would whine and forget this fact, they would swiftly be reprimanded and reminded that they too would get a special day, or that they had been treated as king or queen of the day upon the event of their own birthday recently passed. And as well they should! What would they be doing on this day if it weren’t for your presence? Probably the same mundane thing they normally did. Surely, cake and ice cream, balloons, presents, clowns, and pony rides are not the norm. And every friend knew weeks in advance when the party was. For Clifford, the Big Red Dog, Barbie, or Power Rangers announced the momentous occasion on brightly colored invitations. Birthday parties are to children what weddings are to adults.
Today I worked on the yard. I dug up the side of the house and laid seed. I took some breathers and chatted online for a bit. I downloaded some music from a cool band called, Sleeping At Last (now touring with Switchfoot). My younger brother called and said, “Happy Birthday” before having to run. My older brother IM’d and wished me the same before heading off to bed (He’s stationed in Korea). My sister forgot. My mom called around 10:30PM. Josh and our friend, Craig, took me out for hamburgers at Red Coat Tavern in Birmingham, Michigan. Then Josh and I went home and played a raucous game of “What’s The Number One Most Downloaded Song by a Particular Artist on I-Tunes?” (Josh invented this game.) I thought it would be dumb, but it ended up being rather fun. My friends, Dave and Marlena, made it a point of coming over for a little bit to join in the festivities which, of course, made it so much more fun. I'd have never guessed Britney Spear's #1 most downloaded song was 'Do Somethin'. But, now I know.
As I age, birthdays seem to be losing their luster. I try to get excited. I exclaimed to my neighbor, “It’s my birthday!” and it sounded utterly childish, giddy. For weeks beforehand, I reminded everyone what day it was. I’m not sad that a lot of them forgot to call. I wasn’t sad that my secret hope of a surprise party being the reason people didn’t call was not realized. I’m not sad that I wasn’t flooded with presents or anything. Maybe this is growing up. When we are children birthdays are a precious declaration, “I exist! I am here!” When we grow up, though, we put childish things away.
I’m still here. I have no intention of going anywhere. Today I realized I’ve got some friends who I love and cherish being with. Today I realized I love the headaches and stomachaches that come from laughing too hard. Today I realized something as simple as a stupid game can bring me joy. Today was my birthday. Who knows what tomorrow holds?
A Different World, Part I: Sex.
"Wishful thinking is one thing, and reality another."
~~James Galway~~
I sometimes think people are afraid to think what things might have been like had God decided to do things differently than He has done them. I’m not saying people are afraid to say God was wrong about something, mind you. One need only read the philosophical musings of Betrand Russell or Aldous Huxley to show the exact opposite to be true. Infidels of a reprobate mind are constantly saying God was wrong to do this-or-that particular thing that does not strike their fancy. In the end, it always comes out that these types of people had selfish reasons for believing God wrong about something. For the moment, however, that is neither here nor there. But, what about a world where God chose to do things differently? On the surface, it seems almost blasphemous. It presumes that our idea of how things ought to be is better than God’s final judgment on the matter.
So, this was what was on my mind yesterday as I was feeling rather fleshly. Thankfully, my roommate, Josh, was willing to dialogue about the subject. To shorten a longer narrative, I found myself at odds with God’s design for sex within the bounds of marriage. But, seeing as how God has a quite the proven track record on pretty much everything, I am inclined to trust that He’s got things figured out on that end. Still, one can’t help but wonder, what if?
Most Christians understand the Biblical view of marriage as the avenue to ‘be fruitful and multiply’ and the viewpoint of sex within marriage as the superlative portrait of Jesus Christ’s relationship with His holy Church. And, of course, this is all logical as Christ has created it as we know it to be. The thing people are afraid to imagine, though, is that He could have just as very well created a world in which hedonism (which is certainly preferable to my flesh) was the way things ought to be. Sex, as we know it, could have been designed for something completely different. That kind of idea seems strange. It is not surprising people might have a difficult time wrapping their mind around what I am suggesting. “Why?” seems like a completely natural question to pose.
Philosophically, the inquiry is self-defeating. It presupposes that the act of sex must have the meaning it has, that any other possible meaning than the one we understand it to have is preposterous. It also presupposes that sex must have meaning at all. As I’ve thought about it, the question “Why?” is firmly entrenched in the world God has created, not the one He might have created. In regards to sex, we view it a certain way because God made it that way and if we question why it is so, we can always go back to everything I have already pointed out about its meaning. But, if God should have created things differently, we would have no reason to question it. Like Lewis’ argument against his former reasoning for atheism, “…just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should not know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.” That is, unless we wanted to prescribe more meaning to the act than God has done Himself. (Which, ironically, would read in reverse of what I am now writing here.) If sex were created purely for pleasure (hedonism), rather than for purposes of producing children, we should have never thought differently. When discussing the matter, our view of sex would be just the same as it were now, only the reason for sex would be different.
This, unfortunately, led us into all manner of moral conundrums on both sides of the spectrum. Given that God has prescribed to sex the meaning we, as believers in Jesus Christ, know that it contains, what does that mean? Does it bring us closer to the Roman Catholic belief that contraception is a morally bankrupt practice? Does it suppose that people ought not marry until they are prepared to have children? On the opposite end, if God had created a world in which sex were nothing more than a pleasurable biological act, what would that mean? What would that make of the family structure? Would rearing children have a different meaning also? In this world, we consider sex for the sake of sex purely selfish. If God were to create a world in which sex were just sex, would it still be considered selfish…sinful?
Some would opt for calling it sin, even if God did not. But, this is nonsense. Good and bad, right and wrong do not exist independent of God’s fiat. God, by His holy decision, determines which is which. So, even if I desire to have sex outside of marriage, it is wrong as He has determined sex is for married couples only. If He had determined otherwise, it would not be. It might even be argued, that if I attributed more meaning to it than God had, that would be considered wrong.
Ultimately, this is much like Bruce Almighty roping in the moon to impress his girlfriend whilst causing a tsunami that kills millions in Asia. It is the logic (or hollow and deceptive philosophy) of a fallible human being imagining things that be not as though they were. Being from the world God has created, I understand my desire for meaningless things is fleshly, which I continue to bring under subjection each day. My decision to make things different, were I God, will never happen as the position is taken. I can also look to the times in my life where I have endeavored to play His role anyways and my efforts have fallen to dust. All I mean to do here is what every author does, fiction or nonfiction…imagine a world where things are different than we know them to be—worlds where crazy things like time travel is actualized, aliens abduct people on a routine basis, and superheroes fly the air and blast the villains with their superpowers. God is God and I am not. I am not attempting here to call into question His wisdom. Even His foolishness is wiser than man! Each of us must live, knowing that the decision He has made is the best of all possible choices, even if it doesn’t strike our fancy.
* If some deem my thoughts inordinate or perverse, I apologize. I don’t find my desires ungodly, should they one day find themselves within the confines of a marriage to the woman of my dreams. I am aware of the reality in which God has created and I try to live my life as closely as possible as Scripture lays out. If I have erred in my thinking, God will deal with me. Yahweh’s peace.
