A Challenger Approaches!

So here it is at two o'clock. I can't sleep. I've tried, but it's not happening. What is my solution? Ice Cream. That and then sitting down.

I'm about to open the word, but for now I'll blog.

Relevance vs. Difference. What does a relevant Christian look like? Who does he hang out with, and where does he go? Casting crowns tells me ...

What this world needs is for us to stop hiding behind our relevance
Blending in so well that people can't see the difference
And it's the difference that sets the world free

So I ask myself how relevant I'm trying to be, and whether I'm hiding behind it. There are times that I avoid correction, I'd rather look right than be right.

This is not one of those times.

I need truth here.

In opposing ideologies, I'm by the danger tree. There's no safety here. I've been in one trench, and I'm being called towards the other. I need to find my conviction, and jump in the trench that I believe. I'm not 100% sure which one that is right now.

As a Christian, should I stay away from those dark and dangerous areas? I try to live by St. Francis' "Preach the Gospel always, and if necessary use words." So are those dark areas the "if necessary" times? Should I never walk there unless I'm speaking the word of God?

Or should I go there, and be with the people of my culture and generation? Should I live out St. Francis' command there the same as everywhere else?

Ugh, truth, find me quick!

Kierkegaard's Worst Deciple

Let others complain that our age is evil; my complaint is that it is paltry. For it is without passion. People's thoughts are thin and flimsy as lace, they themselves are as pitiable as lacemakers. The thoughts in their hearts are too paltry to be sinful. For a worm it might be considered a sin to harbour such thoughts, but not for the human being shaped in the image of God. Their desires are stodgy and sluggish, their passions are sleepy. They do their duty, these hucksters, but like the Jews, they let themselves clip the coin just a little; they think that however well the good Lord keeps His books, they can still get away with cheating Him a little. Fie upon them! That's why my soul always reverts to the Old Testament and to Shakespeare. There at least one feels that it's human beings talking. There people hate, people love, people murder their enemy and curse his descendants through all generations, there people sin.
~Søren Kierkegaard ("Either/Or")

YC is done for a year, and I've been thinking here at my desk about action, passions and reason.

There was a moment during worship where it felt like God went Day of Pentecost on my pitiful rear. I closed my eyes, and just let myself move. It felt like worship, a level of worship I have been to only a few times. A time or two over the summer I recall having a lot of space to worship in, so I let myself move as I wanted to. It felt like worship. Unrestricted.

At YC I began to yell. Not mindless yelling, but shouting the reasons for my happiness, and praise to my king. It was incredible. I recall shouting several times in a minute "We Have the Ark." I hope nobody was watching, because thinking back, I must have looked like an idiot. Truthfully I felt a little bit the part as well, but after having read 2nd Samuel 6 again, my mind was put to rest.

When David returned home to bless his household, Michal daughter of Saul came out to meet him and said, "How the king of Israel has distinguished himself today, going around half-naked in full view of the slave girls of his servants as any vulgar fellow would!"

David said to Michal, "It was before the LORD, who chose me rather than your father or anyone from his house when he appointed me ruler over the LORD's people Israel—I will celebrate before the LORD. I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes. But by these slave girls you spoke of, I will be held in honor."

And Michal daughter of Saul had no children to the day of her death.

2 Samuel 6:20-23

David started taking off clothes! I've joked about it on several occasions, but never even in the context of worship. There's always next Sunday ...

Or even Monday, we should worship with our lives, right?

Anyways, I begin to think about passion, and the passion vs. reason, and whether there really is a vs. in there. I haven't decided on that, but Kierkegaard's work Either/Or (which I quoted above) begins with this ...

Are passions, then, the pagans of the soul?
Reason alone baptized?
~Edward Young

Which makes me think about whether I give my passions credit. Whether I burn them at the stake for being a pagan, and then let reason reign.

It's actually not as simple as that. Reason rarely reigns within me completely, which sometimes I curse, sometimes bless. But I wonder if the minority government within myself needs a shake-up. Should I act passionately? At least if I mess up, it'll be a real screw up, as opposed to letting my lacy self remain paltry.

And besides ...

A warrior poet once said
You're not dead yet so live like you could be
A warrior poet said
Have no regrets when you're old
~ The Classic Crime ("Warrior Poet")

So what's the worst that could happen if I act passionately. I could make an idiot of myself, but I clearly don't mind that. I've bought $200 of groceries to lug through a blizzard at 12 am. I've spent a night homeless for the sake of a day with friends. And a thousand other things I can't remember right now, but am realizing I need to write down.

At least I'd make a real idiot of myself. A passionate idiot. Instead of the fake idiot I've created with my silly facade. Don't get me wrong, that IS me. I am silly. But I'm not passionate about silliness. There are other things worth being passionate about.

Now it's time to get passionate. And it's time to start acting on that passion.

Also, it's time for a midnight sandwich.

Communication

My Chinese Philosophy professor (A professor of Chinese philosophy, not a Chinese professor of philosophy) regularly makes me feel like it's my fault the world is going down the tubes. There was a specific day I remember when she pointed out that our culture seems to think anything on a screen is " ... true, and important, and good."

She assumed we didn't believe it. So she pointed out "How many of you have these stupid blogs?" A pause. "Why? 'Well, my thoughts are on a screen, that means they're important.'"

I don't agree with many of her thoughts, but she challenges me, and at the very least makes me think about what I'm getting on with.

So, without further delay, I get to my first blog post in over a month. Nobody even checks this place anymore, do they?

A lot has happened. I realized that as I thought about what I'm passionate about tonight. If I had to give an answer right now, it would be 'Communication.' Meeting people, and being able to communicate ideas and feelings. Communication for the sake of something bigger, like philosophy or theology, or Communication for the sake of communication.

I'm taking German still. Not doing terrific in it, but I'm getting by. I love it. I'm also doing Ancient Greek this term. Again, I'm doing terrible, but so far I'm getting by. And I'm enjoying it, despite the hard time I'm having.

How proficient do you have to be before you can count yourself as having a second language? I was wondering that the other day, because I don't call myself bilingual, while I have friends that do, because they can ask where the bathroom is in French.

I've been realizing, also, that I'm a lot more proficient in German than I thought I was.

It's great.

Mainlander for a Month

They say if you don't know what a Mainlander is, you probably are one ...

... anyways ...

Here I am in Hamilton, Ontario. I flew here from North Carolina (a feat in itself, seeing as I missed my scheduled flight), and spent a week and a bit with my mom and brother, doing the holiday thing. I posted a bit about that earlier.

Well on Monday mom and Jacob went home. The original plan was for me to go to Peterborough this weekend and stay with a friend until National music camp started. Not so much anymore. I guess I suck at communication, because I have no place to stay there.

Which means I stay in Hamilton for another week. I can deal with it, but you know how it is when plans don't work out. Especially since I had some friends I was hoping to hang out with during that week. I'll still see them at camp, but that was going to be a great week.

So I'm here wondering what I can learn from my time in Hamilton. I don't believe God pulled the rug out from under me to teach me a lesson, but while I'm here I'm sure there are plenty of lessons I can learn. I'm thinking I might be able to do some volunteer work around or something. My uncle works with the Salvation Army, and it seems they're always looking for a hand.

That having been said ... if somebody from Peterborough stumbles over this blog and has extra floorspace available ... I wouldn't mind a hand.

On the Rocking of the Second-Person Personal Pronoun

I haven't yet written much about my time in America. That'll have to wait.

Yesterday, Mom, Jacob, and myself went into Toronto for a day. We decided we'd see a show, and then spend a night in the hotel, and come back to Hamilton.

The show we went to was We Will Rock You, a musical done using the music of Queen. I honestly feared it would be terrible, although family was assuring me that it was actually quite good.

I typically try not to get too excited or extreme in expressing my opinion of things. If you asked me how my day, meal, or whatever else was, and I said "It was okay," take that as "good." I try not to say something was good, unless it was actually above expectation, or better than normal.

So understand my full meaning when I tell you that the show was fantastic. Right from the start my heart was set at ease. My fear of a terrible love story, or cheesy drama, set to Queen's music was slaughtered when it was apparent that the musical wasn't going to take itself too seriously.

Simply put, the thing was a brilliant satire, making fun of epic quests, messiah stories, and the rock world's self-importance. Half the lines were a reference to some song or another. I have no problem admitting that I missed a lot of the references. In fact, I think the entire audience missed two or three, one of which I actually caught, and a few more that it seemed the cast lagged for a second, waiting for a reaction.

What more can be said? I'd do it again in a split second.

I have renewed my vow to get to the theater more often this year, although I'll be a poorer boy than last year. And anything in St. John's will likely not compare to what's shown in Toronto.

Either way, anybody interested in catching a show this term?

May Cause Confidence

I've been thinking a lot about Postmodernism, and "the loss of the real," and how television and corporate entities are contributing to the loss (or at least heavy directing) of individual identities. Not that it really needs much thinking about ...

But it's commercials like this that make me think that where we're at isn't so bad.



Great commercial.

Boy Do We Have Much To Discuss

I'm back in the glorious Dominion of Canada again. I haven't had much time to blog over the summer, but I've been journaling like mad. Once I get a chance, I'm going to have to post some stuff here.

Until then, rest in the knowledge that I'm back in the Commonwealth. I will be spending my remaining summer time in Ontario, finishing by attending the Salvation Army Canada and Bermuda Territory's Territorial School of Music and Gospel Arts, from which I will fly directly to St. John's during the first week of classes.

Just so you know. Sorry Corner Brook friends. I promised you I'd be back to chill for a month. I didn't realize I was lying at the time ... but here I am.

In September it'll be 3 months since I set foot in Newfoundland. The longest I'll have been away from my island. Lord carry me. I miss the rock.