The Foggy Steps to Come

Around this time of year, everybody is thinking about the future. We begin rolling the sound of the new year in our minds: "Twenty-ten, or two thousand and ten, or how shall I say it?" Sometimes the arrival of a new year is accompanied by a sense of bewilderment, in wondering just where the year has gone, and in pondering just what this next year will hold.

This year, as I look out upon the on-coming year, I can't help but feel a bit overwhelmed not only at the thought of what might come to us in 2010, but in all the years that follow. In a lot of ways, I still feel like a kid. Sure, I've finished college (did well, too) and got married. Those events were the effective conclusion to many questions I had about my life earlier on. I don't have to worry about who to marry or what to study. But my questions have changed and broadened, and leave me feeling smaller than I felt I was six or so years ago: When it comes time to have children, will I have the strength to be a good father? Can I really strive hard enough to last through an MA and PhD? How long will I be able to continue my studies until my eyes fail on me? Where will we end up? What sort of job can I find in the end? How will I ever manage owning a house? Do I have what it takes to be a family leader and a provider?

Maybe I've had too much time to myself to think, but all these questions (and others) have been sharply on my mind. I do find much comfort, though, in reflecting on the story of Jesus' birth during this season--especially with reference to Mary and Joseph, and Zachariah and Elizabeth. These everyday people had their lives disrupted and realigned for a great purpose. The Lord was working dynamically in the world, and their lives, at least at first, would bear the brunt of it. Whatever plans they had were very much redirected. What a task it must have been for Joseph to care for his wife and her baby as he uprooted his family at Gabriel's beckoning; and Mary submitted her body, life, and reputation to God's bidding. What must it have been like for a couple old enough to be elderly grandparents to be suddenly thrust into childrearing (and to think of it, though it was a joyous occasion for her, Elizabeth had no say in the matter--the angel spoke only to Zachariah).

I can't possibly relate to the gravity of the challenges they faced. I'll certainly never raise a Messiah nor a prophet like John. My actions won't be the stuff of legend, and won't affect the course of history. And for this I'm grateful. But what I can relate to is standing on the threshold of many unknowns. All these questions I have, they aren't the kind of things that will alter time and space, but they are the kind of things that will directly affect the kind of life and service my wife and I and others will experience.

But along with all the unknowns comes comfort. I'm not alone in my unknowns. On one level, I have a kind and understanding wife who regularly reassures me that, in her own words, "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth." And on another level entirely, the same Most High who tore into the lives of Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, and Zachariah, holds in his hands the pages of my own life.

(I'm not struggling to find the specifics of what the Lord desires me to do; I've laid to rest that childhood question of "What is God's will for my life?". To quote a friend, it's all about the "How" and "Why" of life rather than the "What?" "How shall I live?", rather than, "What will I do?" If I'm seeking to live a life that is worthy of the Lord, then I'm not too concerned about whether or not the specifics will line up. My assumption is that they will; that is, that they will 'line up' with what He has in mind, not according to what I think those future specifics should be.)

Basically, this is it: I don't care what I do. I'm not sure it matters what exactly I end up doing as a career, or where we end up living. All I want in life is to know that I am contributing to the Lord's working in the world. I want to contribute to the changing of lives, on whatever level it may happen by my influence. I want to take seriously the call he places on our lives as his children to live as children of light. Whether I end up as a professor at some prestigious school or a small one, or whether I end up as a pastor, or whether I end up working in a small town doing something completely unrelated to academics, I want only to have a sense of belonging and purpose in what I do.

I want to be a good leader to my family, a good worker, and an obedient son in Christ. All these things are what God wants of me as a man. All these things are difficult to accomplish, taking great attention and discipline. All these things are impossible to do well without God's mercy and enablement. My greatest desire for the fleeting years of my life is that they should be spent in pursuit of the things the Lord honors. I want my life to be counted as useful to him. What else matters?

Well, this has been therapeutic for me to think through. I suppose this post has been more for me than for you. At any rate, those are my honest thoughts, and my most earnest prayer.

Peace.

Collective Disjointment: a Rex Murphy Christmas

It's been a great Christmas holiday. Jenn and I enjoyed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Caronport with my parents, sisters, aunt, uncle, and our soon-to-be-brother-in-law, and then jetted off to Montreal for Boxing Day until New Year's Eve. It's such a nice time to slow down.


One of the funniest things this year has been running into Rex Murphy in the Toronto airport! I've always enjoyed his "Point of View" segments on the news, and his radio show. I'd recognize that face anywhere. I joked to Jenn (after we were out of ear-shot, of course), "Yep. He's definitely as ugly in person as on TV!"  He's the third sort-of-celebrity I've seen in an airport. So far, Regina's mayor, Pat Fiaco, Brent Butt from Corner Gas, and now Rex Murphy. 

It's been a lot of fun here in Montreal with Jenn's family. Lots of relaxing, eating, visiting, music, and napping. All things that make a holiday festive and restive.

I think one of my New Year's resolutions is going to be getting back to exegetical posts...

Firstborns and Christmas Lights

Tonight on a walk to deliver some popcorn to my wife who is babysitting some fun little kids, I saw four little girls--all sisters--busily and happily clearing away the freshly fallen snow from an elderly couple's driveway. They were outfitted in matching pink wool toques, each with a snow shovel in hand, and singing "We Want to See Jesus Lifted High." I can't think of a nicer place to be during the holidays than Caronport. After the semester is done, and exams are over, and many of the town's inhabitants have flown wherever home is for the Christmas break, there is a holy quiet that descends here. Especially on nights like these, blanketed under fresh snow.

Caronport is nicely lit up now with Christmas lights. As I look out at all the light-adorned houses, my thoughts wonder to the Exodus. Enslaved Israel prepared their houses with blood to ward off the plague of death threatening their firstborns as they anticipated their salvation. We decorate not to save a firstborn, but because we were saved by one. Our own plague of death has been warded off by a little baby who used his own blood to save us.

New Home

Welcome to the new (and hopefully) improved νόες σχεδίων. Everything from Wordpress has been transplanted here. Blogger seemed a happier home, so here's hoping it is!

Long Live Back to the Future!

All right, I wasn’t going to say anything, but this has become too strange to ignore.

There seem to be an unprecedented number of Back to the Future fans on the internet. Back on November 5, I posted about BTTF because that day happens to be the red-letter date in those movies. Since then, that post has been inundated by web-searches. Over 90% of all web searches that lead people to this blog are related to Back to the Future, such as “Marty McFly,” “Doc,” “Delorean,” “2015 clothing,” “flying car,” “Biff,” “clocktower,” ect… The number of views on that one post have exceeded the views on all other posts combined!

Frankly, I’m shocked! I’ve met a few people who really love the trilogy, but I thought the enthusiasm for the movies was restricted either to the few who grew up on the movies, or to those who really love 80’s movies. Either that perception is wrong, or there are many, many people out there who fall into those two enthusiastic groups.

At any rate, long live Back to the Future! (If you classify yourself as an especially ardent fan of BTTF, you should check out it’s web home: BTTF.com. Enjoy.)

"It's the most edible time of the year!"

Christmas is here in our little abode. On Friday evening, after Jenn finished a particularly nasty exam, we celebrated by zipping into Moose Jaw to pick up a Tree. We also grabbed all sorts of things to put on it — most of which are edible!

Back before I was married, I lived in Regina with some good friends, and each Christmas we decorated the tree with lots of chocolate, candy canes, and other edibles that make the tree both shiny, because of the tinny wrapping, and interactive, because people can snack from the tree throughout the holidays.

That tradition has transfered into our keeping. Last night my little sisters came over to help us decorate the tree, drink some eggnog, and watch some Smallville. Just a couple of weeks until the big meals and get-togethers! Can’t wait!

In Need of De-dragoning

Today I got to spend the day with my wife at her university. The roads were frightening, so I drove her in rather than sentencing her to the highways alone.

While she sat in class, I did some marking and reading in the picturesque student area of Campion College. As I worked, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversations going on nearby. One in particular caught my attention, and despite my attempts to shake it, I couldn’t. Two young women sat just down from my table, and talked for a couple of hours about a great many things. But as the minutes stretched on, and one hour turned into two, it became apparent that the content of their chatter wasn’t substance; it was nothing. To be more specific, it was an egocentric, preferential, stating of opinion that didn’t have any (helpful) shape or direction (or purpose).

Now, I’m being rather harsh here. I’m certainly no stranger to this sort of interaction. When speaking to another person, what is more natural or familiar than to speak about myself? It’s a basic mode of communication for individuals in relation to one another. As Gabriela, the nice lady with whom my sister and I stayed in Mexico, used to say, that sort of chatter is “siempre sobre mi” (“always about me”).

I suppose the conversation I overheard at Campion caught my attention because lately I’ve been thinking about Jesus’ call to discipleship. In the days of the first century, the basis of one’s life seemed to be in the family structure, and breaking ties with that structure seemed unwise and unthinkable. Today, I wonder if the basis of one’s life is no longer the family structure, but the self, the ego. “I” is the foundation on which everything that is achieved is mounted. I’m sure this was quite prevalent in Jesus’ day too, for Luke includes the emphatic “even your own life” to the list of relations we are to hate or renounce.

It’s undeniable that individualism drives our North American world these days. I guess I thought I’d come across different sorts of conversations while sitting in a Catholic college student area, in a school that boasts of classical learning. But what have I to boast? I’m just as egotistically driven as those two young women at Campion when it gets down to it. I realize that afresh each day as I live alongside my wife. There seems to be no greater task than that of divorcing myself from myself. It truly is a death, a daily death, that I must go through in order to rid myself of my own desperate grasp. As personal freedoms go, I don’t think there is anything quite so full of bondage as considering myself to hold the key to my own free will.

The obvious direction here is to turn to Jesus and ask for help. “Take hold of me and rip my self away as Aslan did for poor old dragoned Eustice, and grant me the freedom that exists only in total submission.”

Delirious?, your future starts today.

Yesterday, Delirious?, a band of five men from Littlehampton, UK, who have led the Church in song and cried out for 17 years for people to get out into the streets and change the world for the kingdom, have hung their hats and their guitars.

Delirious? always said that they would never stop until they had created their very best work. It is clear now that their “best” is beyond the music. Lead voice Martin Smith, along with his wife Anna, have started a charity, CompassionArt, “dedicated to seeing works of art generate income for the poorest of the poor.” Last year they brought together their friends of the music world, and produced a CD full of songs adding commentary to the injustice experienced in so much of the world. 100% of those proceeds went to specific charities funded by CompassionArt.

Martin Smith stated, “As a song writer and a person with a microphone I made a promise to try and do something about it. What better than to call on my friends and do something together. To be people that can make a change rather than just singing about it.”

This is the future for Martin and his family.

I’ve been listening/following Delirious? since their early days in the early 90’s, so it’s incredibly sad for me to watch them exit the stage for the last time, knowing the world has heard the last D:tune. But I’m proud too, knowing this band was never about the fame or the money. They felt called to make a change, to turn hearts toward God, and provide a voice for those who couldn’t speak for themselves. Now they step out of the concert spotlight, costumes, and equipment, and into the world of direct service.

Here’s a song for you from their latest live DVD, in Bogota, Columbia. It’s called “Break the Silence,” which is a call for the Church to find its voice and stand for those who can’t stand on their own.

Citizens with a secret in our hands
That could ignite our shadow lands
Light it up and let it go
Let it shine with love and grace and a redesign
A ray of hope for the common man
Light it up and let it go

Oh, oh, oh,
We’ve got to give it away
And there’s a price to pay
When we give it away

Break the silence, break the silence,
Cross ever boundary that divides us, divides us
Break the silence, break the silence,
Cross ever border that divides us, oh, unite us

We turn the page, to a future just begun
If heaven is real then let our heaven become
Peace on earth, let it flow.
We raise our voice where the colours all but gone
Paint the world with redemption songs
Stir it up let it flow.