Yeah...
Yeah. So, its been a while since my last entry. Guess I was naive in thinking I'd have a ton of extra time on my hand. I'm in class all the time. I'm writing press releases for the school all the time. I'm doing homework all the time. Add to that the fact I'm entertaining the idea of spending more time with a nice young lady here at the school, life just seems to get more complicated and I become even more crunched for time. I freely admit, however, it is more pleasant than this last year I've been through. No time because you're engaged by or to something is much better than lots of time because you're doing nothing. I'll try to write some more soon. My brain needs to offload some new thoughts.
Crowded Isolation
Have you ever been surrounded by a sea of faces, yet felt like you’re the only one in the room? Like you’re talking to a world populated by empty chairs? You speak and no one listens? You scream at the top of your lungs across the Grand Canyon and no echo returns to you? Have you ever felt like you either A.) Don’t belong somewhere or B.) You’re just simply wrong all the time? Has your heart ever ached for the most intimate fellowship a person can know this side of eternity, only to be treated with a vague mystery of what relationships are or ought to be?
Rochester College crackles with energy and life unlike I’ve ever seen. Well, people aren’t exactly shooting bolts of lightning from their fingertips or anything but, you get the general idea. There is something fresh and exciting in the air. There’s a newness to it all that one can’t help but be caught up in. And, of course, the freshmen are all hooking up like a chain link fence. Despite all of this, I feel disconnected. And, I can’t explain why. I enjoy the conversations I have with people. I go to the gym and work out five days a week with many of them. There are study groups and Bible studies and classroom discussions. For some unknown reason, while I know the names of a select few people, everyone seems to know mine. What gives?
I wonder if Jesus ever felt this way. He left His home to experience something He’d never experienced before…humanity. Everything about Earth must have taken on a newness and excitement that couldn’t be experienced from His throne in heaven. And, everyone knew His name. Everyone wanted a piece of Him. Everyone wanted to sit and talk with Him. Yet, amidst all those people, something had to seem out of place. He didn’t quite belong, did He?
Then again, His alien nature seems to be how I feel. Maybe, in fact, He belonged here more than any of is could ever imagine. I am by no means the Savior of Rochester College. In fact, I feel I need the institution more than it needs me. But, Christ’s purpose was to bring something to the world that, otherwise, would not have been there—redemption. He was here for a time and then returned home to prepare a place for us. Likewise, maybe that’s the point of being here at Rochester. I’m sure consequential relationships will come with time, but even if they didn’t, maybe my purpose is for something other than that. I’m not suggesting I will go through 3 ½ years of schooling as an island unto myself, but that maybe I am here to bring Rochester College something that otherwise would not be here. We can look back and see what Christ did for the world and be thankful. For the moment, I’m not sure what I bring to Rochester, or the world for that matter. Rest assured, it is something…even if I feel alone (for the moment) in doing it.
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.
