After close to 16 months away from the University of South Carolina, the time has come. I am back. Classes began Thursday, and things are in full swing on campus. It is the same place I left one short year ago but somehow it looks quite different now. I notice phrases I never recognized before and listen to professors from a different place in those same plastic chairs. While it is strange to have culture shock in my native land, it is an occurrence that I am coming to appreciate. It is one further step in growing up.
While it is wonderful to be with my friends and family again, the quirks of America are surely difficult to grasp and wrestle through. In ways, I feel as if I were a stranger in my homeland. Then, I remember, I am; I should feel this way. As a follower and lover of Jesus Christ, I am a stranger in this world. This is not my home and how thankful I am that home is still to come. Things should be strange and things should make me look twice and question what seems commonplace.
James (Christ’s brother) addresses his letter to all Christians, which is preserved for us in the New Testament, as “to the twelve tribes scattered among the nations.” Of the dozens of ways he could have chosen to address the followers of Jesus, he chose to refer to them by their Jewish roots (an interesting coincidence in our chronically anti-Semitic world). Also, he chooses to point out the fact that the believers are dispersed throughout the nations. They are not doing life in places they regard as their homes. His reminder acknowledges that they are very likely grappling with not understanding local customs and consistently feel ever so slightly out of sync. He follows such an address with a command: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds.” Having just told them that they did not fit in and should expect to struggle, he then tells them that their happiness had better come from only one place. His name is Jesus, and he allows us to call him Savior. Anywhere else we could seek joy will shake and will change. It is Him or it is impossible.
James’s words recall the fact that we are not yet home, and yet we must walk through this strange place with great fullness. Such a command makes no sense though unless we have heard something first: a calling home. Christ came and invited you and me back to the only native land we have, a place we will never feel we don’t belong because it is where we were made to be forever and ever…with Him.
So here I am, back in the land of sweet tea and Magnolia blossoms. And as lovely and growing as the Czech Republic was in my life, I have peace knowing it is finished. There is no place I would rather be than the one I am in today: called back home. For now, to Carolina; forever, to the arms of the One who loved me first.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
Looking Homewards
My room has been lovingly messy since September. And while not to say that it isn’t still covered with papers and flyers and maps, as I look around it begins to feel a tad bit bare and sterile. It is June 1st and with the change in month comes a change in place for me. I am beginning to pack up my life here in the Czech Republic in order to move on to L’abri in Switzerland (http://www.labri.org/) where I will pass the next month and a half. I will spend the summer studying God’s Word in a commune-like setting, trying to live simply and be still for a time before heading back to the States on July 14th.While I am thankful for the opportunity and blessing I know this summer will bring, I cannot help but be sad as it means I must leave what has become my life and my home here in the city of Brno. It was beautiful.
Blessings, such as this past year, are gifts from the Lord which He chooses to give and He chooses to take back. Who is the recipient to demand what and for how long they will have something which is not theirs to begin with? No, instead, we turn to the good Father who we trust with it all, knowing by personal experience and deep assurance that He is our Father and He is good (Matthew 7:9-11). We sit in His presence, proclaiming that He is enough.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
"To Pour Ourselves Out"
“A ‘silent tsunami’ of hunger is sweeping the world's most desperate nations […] The skyrocketing cost of food staples, stoked by rising fuel prices, unpredictable weather and demand from India and China, has already sparked sometimes violent protests across the Caribbean, Africa and Asia. The price of rice has more than doubled in the last five weeks […] The World Bank estimates food prices have risen by 83 percent in three years. ‘What we are seeing now is affecting more people on every continent,’ Sheeran told a news conference […] the spiraling prices threaten to plunge millions back into poverty and reverse progress on alleviating misery in the developing world.
‘Tackling hunger is a moral challenge to each of us and it is also a threat to the political and economic stability of nations,’ Brown said.”
[Article from the Associated Press by David Stringer on April 22nd, 2008 “World Food Program Warns of ‘Silent Tsunami’ of Hunger]
Often when the subject of hunger is discussed, it is discussed in broad, global terms. Nonetheless, even though people use the term “global” what they actually picture in their minds is normally limited to the developing world, specifically Sub-Saharan Africa. Perhaps it is easier to consider a lonely child with skinny limbs and a bloated stomach far away in Africa versus the kid down the block who looks like one’s own child in the developed world. The former image is certainly easier to sell when attempting to raise support and push for action. Due to this, developed states’ government policies often reflect the resultant farsightedness in regards to the issue of food insecurity. This is demonstrated not by the existence of policies to combat hunger in developing countries because these do exist and are of critical importance; instead, the farsightedness gets played out by the relative absence of policies to decrease the number of food insecure people in their own developed countries.
Yet, this situation is labeled global for a reason, and the discussion of hunger is an essential one to engage in during the present. Food insecurity is one way in which millions of people are excluded from the prospect of a prosperous present and a better future. It has many people still trapped in invisible handcuffs. Yet, hunger does not only affect those whose stomachs are empty. The effects of it creep across society in numerous forms. Some of these consequences are direct while others are more indirect. In some areas such as finances, both kinds of affects exist. Directly, hunger has an affect on the pocketbook of developed countries through the added medical cost that comes as a result of hunger. When people are hungry, their immune systems cannot function properly since they are not getting all of the proper nutrition that they require. Therefore, society ends up bearing the financial costs of hunger related hospital bills including problematic pregnancies, childhood anemia, and more. There is also an indirect financial cost. In an age when the West’s population is growing older and more people are leaving the work force and relying on the government to provide living pensions, hunger further reduces the workforce due to absenteeism from work, disabilities from poor nutrition, health deterioration due to stress, and premature death from starvation. Not only does this further reduction in the labor force reduce the number of tax dollars coming into the system but it increases the demands for those same diminishing stocks of financial capital. Also, thousands of jobs remain undone which decreases the overall productivity of the state. Another indirect affect, is the social unrest that hunger causes. There is a correlation between hunger and crime that cannot be ignored. In addition to an increase in crime, there are other forms of social unrest that are demonstrated through riots and protests. If we want to build a truly great future for our world, our answer to the people’s implicit and explicit cries for food cannot mirror one historical predecessor who infamously replied, “feed them cake.” Ignorance did not work then nor will it suffice now.
There are food insecure people on every continent and in every state in the world. Even in the West. Even in our cities. Probably even in our neighborhoods. It is time we stood up, claimed responsibility, and walked in the truth. The Scriptures tell us about the Lord’s heart concerning the hungry:
6[Rather] is not this the fast that I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every [enslaving] yoke? 7Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house--when you see the naked, that you cover him, and that you hide not yourself from [the needs of] your own flesh and blood?
8Then shall your light break forth like the morning, and your healing (your restoration and the power of a new life) shall spring forth speedily; your righteousness (your right relationship with God) shall go before you [conducting you to peace and prosperity], and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. 9Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, Here I am. If you take away from your midst yokes of oppression [wherever you find them], the finger pointed in scorn [toward the oppressed or the godly], and every form of false, harsh, unjust, and wicked speaking.
10And if you pour out that with which you sustain your own life for the hungry and satisfy the need of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in darkness, and your obscurity and gloom become like the noonday. 11And the Lord shall guide you continually and satisfy you in drought and in dry places and make strong your bones. And you shall be like a watered garden and like a spring of water whose waters fail not. 12And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of [buildings that have laid waste for] many generations; and you shall be called Repairer of the Breach, Restorer of Streets to Dwell In.
[Isaiah 58:6-12, The Amplified Bible, bold and italics added]
To “pour out that with which [we] sustain [our] own [lives] for the hungry and satisfy the need of the afflicted.” That is our calling. That is the answer. It is us.
WE are the answer.
“All I have is a voice
‘Tackling hunger is a moral challenge to each of us and it is also a threat to the political and economic stability of nations,’ Brown said.”
[Article from the Associated Press by David Stringer on April 22nd, 2008 “World Food Program Warns of ‘Silent Tsunami’ of Hunger]
Often when the subject of hunger is discussed, it is discussed in broad, global terms. Nonetheless, even though people use the term “global” what they actually picture in their minds is normally limited to the developing world, specifically Sub-Saharan Africa. Perhaps it is easier to consider a lonely child with skinny limbs and a bloated stomach far away in Africa versus the kid down the block who looks like one’s own child in the developed world. The former image is certainly easier to sell when attempting to raise support and push for action. Due to this, developed states’ government policies often reflect the resultant farsightedness in regards to the issue of food insecurity. This is demonstrated not by the existence of policies to combat hunger in developing countries because these do exist and are of critical importance; instead, the farsightedness gets played out by the relative absence of policies to decrease the number of food insecure people in their own developed countries.
Yet, this situation is labeled global for a reason, and the discussion of hunger is an essential one to engage in during the present. Food insecurity is one way in which millions of people are excluded from the prospect of a prosperous present and a better future. It has many people still trapped in invisible handcuffs. Yet, hunger does not only affect those whose stomachs are empty. The effects of it creep across society in numerous forms. Some of these consequences are direct while others are more indirect. In some areas such as finances, both kinds of affects exist. Directly, hunger has an affect on the pocketbook of developed countries through the added medical cost that comes as a result of hunger. When people are hungry, their immune systems cannot function properly since they are not getting all of the proper nutrition that they require. Therefore, society ends up bearing the financial costs of hunger related hospital bills including problematic pregnancies, childhood anemia, and more. There is also an indirect financial cost. In an age when the West’s population is growing older and more people are leaving the work force and relying on the government to provide living pensions, hunger further reduces the workforce due to absenteeism from work, disabilities from poor nutrition, health deterioration due to stress, and premature death from starvation. Not only does this further reduction in the labor force reduce the number of tax dollars coming into the system but it increases the demands for those same diminishing stocks of financial capital. Also, thousands of jobs remain undone which decreases the overall productivity of the state. Another indirect affect, is the social unrest that hunger causes. There is a correlation between hunger and crime that cannot be ignored. In addition to an increase in crime, there are other forms of social unrest that are demonstrated through riots and protests. If we want to build a truly great future for our world, our answer to the people’s implicit and explicit cries for food cannot mirror one historical predecessor who infamously replied, “feed them cake.” Ignorance did not work then nor will it suffice now.
There are food insecure people on every continent and in every state in the world. Even in the West. Even in our cities. Probably even in our neighborhoods. It is time we stood up, claimed responsibility, and walked in the truth. The Scriptures tell us about the Lord’s heart concerning the hungry:
6[Rather] is not this the fast that I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every [enslaving] yoke? 7Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house--when you see the naked, that you cover him, and that you hide not yourself from [the needs of] your own flesh and blood?
8Then shall your light break forth like the morning, and your healing (your restoration and the power of a new life) shall spring forth speedily; your righteousness (your right relationship with God) shall go before you [conducting you to peace and prosperity], and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. 9Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, Here I am. If you take away from your midst yokes of oppression [wherever you find them], the finger pointed in scorn [toward the oppressed or the godly], and every form of false, harsh, unjust, and wicked speaking.
10And if you pour out that with which you sustain your own life for the hungry and satisfy the need of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in darkness, and your obscurity and gloom become like the noonday. 11And the Lord shall guide you continually and satisfy you in drought and in dry places and make strong your bones. And you shall be like a watered garden and like a spring of water whose waters fail not. 12And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of [buildings that have laid waste for] many generations; and you shall be called Repairer of the Breach, Restorer of Streets to Dwell In.
[Isaiah 58:6-12, The Amplified Bible, bold and italics added]
To “pour out that with which [we] sustain [our] own [lives] for the hungry and satisfy the need of the afflicted.” That is our calling. That is the answer. It is us.
WE are the answer.
“All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.”
[W. H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939,” bolded added]
[W. H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939,” bolded added]
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Back to the Homeland
One of the characteristics of the United States that sets her apart from any other country in the world is the fact that she is a “nation of immigrants.” The vast majority
of citizens at some point in their past have come from somewhere other than the continent they currently reside in. It is for this reason that America is rightly known as the “great melting pot” of peoples, cultures, traditions, and ideas.
My family is no exception. We are the descendants of British, Irish, Scottish, Dutch, and Germans peoples. One can visibly see the traces of such lineage from my freckles to my hair. Yet, it is a fact I hardly think about. Not before arriving in Europe anyways. Being back here where I know that people I share blood with have strolled, worked, and spent their lives made me think. It
also made me act. So I got the addresses of some distant German relatives whose great-grandparents my grandmother kept in touch with, and I wrote them a letter.
And then, quite suddenly, I found myself sitting around a table laden with cakes and black coffee on Easter Sunday drawing out a family tree with cousins in Berlin, Germany. After hugs and introductions, we had decided that it would be nice to know how exactly we were related since that minor fact none of us knew. It is all clear now. My grandmother use to live in Dresden; she and one of her cousins there were quite close. Then, between the wars, my grandmother left her life in Germany to join the rest of her family in Florida. Most immigrants who arrived in the States at the time came knowing that they were shedding all traces of their past lives. There was no such thing as commercial airplanes or email accounts. Connection and communication literally had
to cross oceans. Thankfully, my grandmother did not view difficulty as limiting, and she and her cousin persisted in writing letters which would slowly traverse across the waters throughout the time of the second war, the Communist take over, the closing of the Iron Curtain, and the same’s fall and reopening many years later. Once again today, connection has been restored between our two countries after many years of tangible and intangible barriers. And it is this cousin of my grandmother who was the grandmother of the relatives whose house I was at and the great-grandparents of the cousins my age I passed Easter day with.
My grandmother has never returned to her homeland even after all these years which have seen so many
technological advances. Instead, I was blessed to do so. These are people I should never have known. I mean, our family ties have not been renewed physically since the early 1900s. And here it is 2008. Yet, nothing seemed odd about it. They were family, and I was back.
How great to be reunited with physical, earthly family. Yet, what joy there will be on that day when we will be reunited with the great spiritual family that resides on every continent, has members in every nation, speaks every tongue, and has lived during every age. All of our differences and things that should hinder our union fall away. We are family. And soon, we will be back home. Praise God our Father!
of citizens at some point in their past have come from somewhere other than the continent they currently reside in. It is for this reason that America is rightly known as the “great melting pot” of peoples, cultures, traditions, and ideas. My family is no exception. We are the descendants of British, Irish, Scottish, Dutch, and Germans peoples. One can visibly see the traces of such lineage from my freckles to my hair. Yet, it is a fact I hardly think about. Not before arriving in Europe anyways. Being back here where I know that people I share blood with have strolled, worked, and spent their lives made me think. It
also made me act. So I got the addresses of some distant German relatives whose great-grandparents my grandmother kept in touch with, and I wrote them a letter.And then, quite suddenly, I found myself sitting around a table laden with cakes and black coffee on Easter Sunday drawing out a family tree with cousins in Berlin, Germany. After hugs and introductions, we had decided that it would be nice to know how exactly we were related since that minor fact none of us knew. It is all clear now. My grandmother use to live in Dresden; she and one of her cousins there were quite close. Then, between the wars, my grandmother left her life in Germany to join the rest of her family in Florida. Most immigrants who arrived in the States at the time came knowing that they were shedding all traces of their past lives. There was no such thing as commercial airplanes or email accounts. Connection and communication literally had
to cross oceans. Thankfully, my grandmother did not view difficulty as limiting, and she and her cousin persisted in writing letters which would slowly traverse across the waters throughout the time of the second war, the Communist take over, the closing of the Iron Curtain, and the same’s fall and reopening many years later. Once again today, connection has been restored between our two countries after many years of tangible and intangible barriers. And it is this cousin of my grandmother who was the grandmother of the relatives whose house I was at and the great-grandparents of the cousins my age I passed Easter day with. My grandmother has never returned to her homeland even after all these years which have seen so many
technological advances. Instead, I was blessed to do so. These are people I should never have known. I mean, our family ties have not been renewed physically since the early 1900s. And here it is 2008. Yet, nothing seemed odd about it. They were family, and I was back.How great to be reunited with physical, earthly family. Yet, what joy there will be on that day when we will be reunited with the great spiritual family that resides on every continent, has members in every nation, speaks every tongue, and has lived during every age. All of our differences and things that should hinder our union fall away. We are family. And soon, we will be back home. Praise God our Father!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Without Cloaks
In advance, this is not going to be a normal blog, but it is what is on my heart right now. Fair warning :).
So today is Palm Sunday. When we read the Scripture in Luke 19 about Jesus entering Jerusalem on a donkey, it struck me how messed up things are. Here the people had been watching, praying, weeping for God to send a Savior. When the disciples told the colt’s owners that “the Lord needs it,” the owners simply watched as a piece of their finances walked away. The Word does not say they questioned that one line explanation from the disciples. I always thought it strange that they agreed without question. However, in those days the people recognized their desperation for God’s hand to move and help them and they were confident that He would deliver on His promise to send a Savior. They poured over the Scriptures looking for signs of redemption. They knew the prophecies. One states that the Savior will enter Jerusalem riding on a donkey. There were people then who had farms around Jerusalem where they raised colts so that when the day arrived that the Lord needed one, it would be ready. They waited season after season for the Savior to claim his colt. When the owners allowed their colt to be led away, it was an act of recognition that proclaimed “we have faith that this man is the Savior, the Redeemer of Israel.”
The owners are not the only characters in the story though. There were also the people lining the streets spreading their cloaks in submission on the path in front of Jesus of Nazareth. They literally took off a man-made form of protection and covering and allowed Jesus to stomp on it as they stood before Him, unprotected and exposed, proclaiming, ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.’ During those times, there were no chapter or verse designations in Scripture. In order to direct someone to a verse in Scripture, one would say the first line of it. So when the people called, ‘Blessed is the king,’ they were calling attention to the prophecy about the Christ in Psalm 118:26. But if we follow the citing on, the prophecy goes further:
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. From the house of the Lord we bless you. The Lord is God, and he has made his light shine upon us. With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession up to the horns of the altar” (Psalm 118:26-27).
It is saying, come, let us follow our priest on the way to the Temple with palm branches in hand giving thanks to God that He has provided a way to take our sins away. “To the horns of the altar” where they would sacrifice the lamb. Only this time, it was the ultimate procession. The last. The final Lamb.
Did they realize what they were proclaiming? Did they know that they both claimed Him as King and a sacrifice with their words? That they condemned Him even before a week would pass and they would shout “Crucify Him.”
Now I understand a little more about why Jesus wept in the midst of this seemingly splendid, “triumphant entry.” It was triumphant; He was about to crush Satan’s head and redeem all mankind; but the people around Him had no idea. They did not get what they were saying. Yet it was ordained since creation that this would come to pass in order that we might have a chance to be set free. If the people had not said anything, Jesus tells us that then “the stones will cry out.” It was time for a Savior. ALL of creation could feel it.
And so here we are. Just like the people then. We know we need a Savior. We know the Word tells us we have one. We have seen the signs and watched them be fulfilled. We proclaim Him as God. Oh, but how often do we then turn around and nail Him on that cross again! We don’t really know what we are proclaiming with our lips. We don’t get it either.
But one day we will, and this time, the Scripture tells us, Christ again will come riding into Jerusalem. Only this time it will be to sit on a throne, not hang from a cross. Praise God! May the day come quickly.
So today is Palm Sunday. When we read the Scripture in Luke 19 about Jesus entering Jerusalem on a donkey, it struck me how messed up things are. Here the people had been watching, praying, weeping for God to send a Savior. When the disciples told the colt’s owners that “the Lord needs it,” the owners simply watched as a piece of their finances walked away. The Word does not say they questioned that one line explanation from the disciples. I always thought it strange that they agreed without question. However, in those days the people recognized their desperation for God’s hand to move and help them and they were confident that He would deliver on His promise to send a Savior. They poured over the Scriptures looking for signs of redemption. They knew the prophecies. One states that the Savior will enter Jerusalem riding on a donkey. There were people then who had farms around Jerusalem where they raised colts so that when the day arrived that the Lord needed one, it would be ready. They waited season after season for the Savior to claim his colt. When the owners allowed their colt to be led away, it was an act of recognition that proclaimed “we have faith that this man is the Savior, the Redeemer of Israel.”
The owners are not the only characters in the story though. There were also the people lining the streets spreading their cloaks in submission on the path in front of Jesus of Nazareth. They literally took off a man-made form of protection and covering and allowed Jesus to stomp on it as they stood before Him, unprotected and exposed, proclaiming, ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.’ During those times, there were no chapter or verse designations in Scripture. In order to direct someone to a verse in Scripture, one would say the first line of it. So when the people called, ‘Blessed is the king,’ they were calling attention to the prophecy about the Christ in Psalm 118:26. But if we follow the citing on, the prophecy goes further:
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. From the house of the Lord we bless you. The Lord is God, and he has made his light shine upon us. With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession up to the horns of the altar” (Psalm 118:26-27).
It is saying, come, let us follow our priest on the way to the Temple with palm branches in hand giving thanks to God that He has provided a way to take our sins away. “To the horns of the altar” where they would sacrifice the lamb. Only this time, it was the ultimate procession. The last. The final Lamb.
Did they realize what they were proclaiming? Did they know that they both claimed Him as King and a sacrifice with their words? That they condemned Him even before a week would pass and they would shout “Crucify Him.”
Now I understand a little more about why Jesus wept in the midst of this seemingly splendid, “triumphant entry.” It was triumphant; He was about to crush Satan’s head and redeem all mankind; but the people around Him had no idea. They did not get what they were saying. Yet it was ordained since creation that this would come to pass in order that we might have a chance to be set free. If the people had not said anything, Jesus tells us that then “the stones will cry out.” It was time for a Savior. ALL of creation could feel it.
And so here we are. Just like the people then. We know we need a Savior. We know the Word tells us we have one. We have seen the signs and watched them be fulfilled. We proclaim Him as God. Oh, but how often do we then turn around and nail Him on that cross again! We don’t really know what we are proclaiming with our lips. We don’t get it either.
But one day we will, and this time, the Scripture tells us, Christ again will come riding into Jerusalem. Only this time it will be to sit on a throne, not hang from a cross. Praise God! May the day come quickly.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
From the Heart to the Navel
Hello friends and family! Heidi and I have returned from our explorations of the great Greek lands. Our travels took us from here in the heart of Europe down South to 
the place in Delphi where the ancient Greeks believed the navel of the world rested. In between there was quite a bit to see and experience as I am sure you can imagine.
The Greeks are a lovely people who are always interested in hearing your story and sharing some of theirs
with you. It seemed that everywhere we went people young and old walking past us on the sidewalk or serving us a gyro would stop and ask who we were, why we were in their city, and where we were from. And in exchange, they would recommend somewhere we just had to go to or something we needed to try in order to have the full Greek experience. The land they live in is painted with the most vibrant colors. Even the soil 
of the earth takes on rich shades of brown that are as beautiful in their own right as the brilliant greens of the crops around them and the touchable blue of the sky. It is simply stunning. And the history of the place… as the birthplace of Europe, it seemed that every time we meandered down a different street we stumbled upon ruins from the 11th century or a basilica from the 14th. And the Greeks are so proud of their past. They are proud of who they are as a people and gladly take up the great responsibilities that such a position in the world brings.
One of the things I learned about them, though, is that the Greeks do not define themselves by their ancestry. Just as many of the cities are built directly upon or alongside the ruins of the past so too the Greek people recognize the foundation upon which they find themselves, but they go on to build their own homes and markets and places of worship. It is hard to explain but it is as if they recognize their heritage but don’t end with it. It does not define them. Their present is today and their future tomorrow; not somewhere in by gone days. Yet, no one would blame them for focusing on the past in an attempt to call it the present if they wanted to. But they seem to have discovered that your past is only one element which
helps to mold you into the person or people who you are growing to be. The truly important thing is that you grow which is exactly what those three weeks gave me the chance to do.
At the time, I was reading through the book of Acts in the Bible. In the mornings, I would read about places and people, and in the afternoons, I would see them. The Bible is real. It is alive. It all happened and it is.
I read about the riot of the shrine makers in Ephesus and then that afternoon, in the National Archeological Museum there was a statue, an idol, of the goddess Artemis sitting upon a stand from that same city. And I read about how Paul was shipwrecked off the coast of Crete where we had just been, and also about Paul preaching in the synagogue in Thessalonica and in the ancient agora (the marketplace) and the Areopagus (a place of debating and discussion) in Athens. And this was his message to the ancestors of the people I met:
"Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. 23For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you.
24"The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. 25And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. 26From one man he made every
nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. 27God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.” (Acts 17: 22-27)
The message has not changed. He who is the Creator became something created in order that His grace and glory could be made manifest and reconcile all of us sinners to Himself. Praise be to God!
the place in Delphi where the ancient Greeks believed the navel of the world rested. In between there was quite a bit to see and experience as I am sure you can imagine.The Greeks are a lovely people who are always interested in hearing your story and sharing some of theirs
with you. It seemed that everywhere we went people young and old walking past us on the sidewalk or serving us a gyro would stop and ask who we were, why we were in their city, and where we were from. And in exchange, they would recommend somewhere we just had to go to or something we needed to try in order to have the full Greek experience. The land they live in is painted with the most vibrant colors. Even the soil 
of the earth takes on rich shades of brown that are as beautiful in their own right as the brilliant greens of the crops around them and the touchable blue of the sky. It is simply stunning. And the history of the place… as the birthplace of Europe, it seemed that every time we meandered down a different street we stumbled upon ruins from the 11th century or a basilica from the 14th. And the Greeks are so proud of their past. They are proud of who they are as a people and gladly take up the great responsibilities that such a position in the world brings.One of the things I learned about them, though, is that the Greeks do not define themselves by their ancestry. Just as many of the cities are built directly upon or alongside the ruins of the past so too the Greek people recognize the foundation upon which they find themselves, but they go on to build their own homes and markets and places of worship. It is hard to explain but it is as if they recognize their heritage but don’t end with it. It does not define them. Their present is today and their future tomorrow; not somewhere in by gone days. Yet, no one would blame them for focusing on the past in an attempt to call it the present if they wanted to. But they seem to have discovered that your past is only one element which
helps to mold you into the person or people who you are growing to be. The truly important thing is that you grow which is exactly what those three weeks gave me the chance to do.At the time, I was reading through the book of Acts in the Bible. In the mornings, I would read about places and people, and in the afternoons, I would see them. The Bible is real. It is alive. It all happened and it is.
I read about the riot of the shrine makers in Ephesus and then that afternoon, in the National Archeological Museum there was a statue, an idol, of the goddess Artemis sitting upon a stand from that same city. And I read about how Paul was shipwrecked off the coast of Crete where we had just been, and also about Paul preaching in the synagogue in Thessalonica and in the ancient agora (the marketplace) and the Areopagus (a place of debating and discussion) in Athens. And this was his message to the ancestors of the people I met:
"Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. 23For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you.
24"The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. 25And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. 26From one man he made every
nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. 27God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.” (Acts 17: 22-27)The message has not changed. He who is the Creator became something created in order that His grace and glory could be made manifest and reconcile all of us sinners to Himself. Praise be to God!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Experiencing a true winter in all its splendor
After returning from a wonderful time at home with my family and friends (and 75 degree weather), I have returned and plunged back into the frigid Czech lands. Literally.
The day after my red-eye flight, I hopped in a car with some Czech friends and Heidi, and we headed north to the mountains near the Polish border. One of the ladies is the wife of the coach of the Czech ski team so the mission for the weekend was to teach Heidi and me how to ski. This is where the plunging came in.
The moun
tains were stunning. Snow blanketed the forest floor and the Christmas trees sagged with their white burden. Being there, I can understand how people can honestly love the winter. Up to this point, I must say, I had my doubts. But, it is a whole other world when everything is white as if the Lord decided to shoot with black and white film for a few months for the sheer beauty of it and to make sure we notice colors when they return.
Speaking of fresh coloring, I myself gained some over the weekend. Not your conventional browning, however. Mine is more of a bluish purple. In addition to my oh so sore muscles, it is all the evidence I have to show that I have officially added skiing to my repertoire of abilities. Coming downhill though was not the problem. That part was enthralling. It was the rides up. In the Czech Republic, such things as metal chair lifts which you sit down on and pull the bar snug are unnecessary. I think this is because most of the people on the slopes here have skied their whole lives so such luxury is unnecessary. So instead, they had this contraption which looks like a rope swing with a small red circle on the bottom for which you must position your skis, wait until it rounds the corner, grab the rope, shove the circle beneath you, and hold on as you are whisked off up the mountain. The same task in reverse awaits you if you are lucky enough to keep your skis going in the proper direction and arrive safely at the top. Needless to say, this task is the origin of the new temporary tattoos on my sore body. The pain quickly faded, however, as the pow
der sprayed and the wind cut through my layers as I would head back down the Czech mountainside (on what I erroneously supposed to be the least steep side). Overall, it was a wonderful welcome back to the Czech Republic for which I am so thankful.
Now it is time to look forward to the rest of the semester still to come. In just a couple of days, Heidi and I are headed to Greece (and, hopefully, not quite as severe temperatures). From there we will head north, backpacking for about a month. So until February when I return home and once again have my computer, I wish you all the best as I leave you in the hands of are all-powerful and loving Lord.
The day after my red-eye flight, I hopped in a car with some Czech friends and Heidi, and we headed north to the mountains near the Polish border. One of the ladies is the wife of the coach of the Czech ski team so the mission for the weekend was to teach Heidi and me how to ski. This is where the plunging came in.
The moun
tains were stunning. Snow blanketed the forest floor and the Christmas trees sagged with their white burden. Being there, I can understand how people can honestly love the winter. Up to this point, I must say, I had my doubts. But, it is a whole other world when everything is white as if the Lord decided to shoot with black and white film for a few months for the sheer beauty of it and to make sure we notice colors when they return.Speaking of fresh coloring, I myself gained some over the weekend. Not your conventional browning, however. Mine is more of a bluish purple. In addition to my oh so sore muscles, it is all the evidence I have to show that I have officially added skiing to my repertoire of abilities. Coming downhill though was not the problem. That part was enthralling. It was the rides up. In the Czech Republic, such things as metal chair lifts which you sit down on and pull the bar snug are unnecessary. I think this is because most of the people on the slopes here have skied their whole lives so such luxury is unnecessary. So instead, they had this contraption which looks like a rope swing with a small red circle on the bottom for which you must position your skis, wait until it rounds the corner, grab the rope, shove the circle beneath you, and hold on as you are whisked off up the mountain. The same task in reverse awaits you if you are lucky enough to keep your skis going in the proper direction and arrive safely at the top. Needless to say, this task is the origin of the new temporary tattoos on my sore body. The pain quickly faded, however, as the pow
der sprayed and the wind cut through my layers as I would head back down the Czech mountainside (on what I erroneously supposed to be the least steep side). Overall, it was a wonderful welcome back to the Czech Republic for which I am so thankful.Now it is time to look forward to the rest of the semester still to come. In just a couple of days, Heidi and I are headed to Greece (and, hopefully, not quite as severe temperatures). From there we will head north, backpacking for about a month. So until February when I return home and once again have my computer, I wish you all the best as I leave you in the hands of are all-powerful and loving Lord.
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