This morning I came to Genesis 11-13 and Hebrews 5. Bible in hand, I set out to tackle these four chapters but I failed to get even 10 verses into Genesis 11 before I was taken back by a simple, yet profound, reality of our human existence: control is an illusion.

I’ll wait for the ringing in your ears to stop before I go on…

If you’re unfamiliar with the passage, this first section of Genesis 11 describes the events at the tower of Babel among the generations following the Flood. Having read this story several times before, I began reading with a general sense of detachment, reading the story for reading’s sake. Then I came to verse 4…

And they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower whose top is in the heavens; let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be scattered abroad over the face of the whole earth.”

God looked upon what man was doing (vv.5-7) and realized that they had grown in skill, technology, intellect and ambition (my own observation) and decided it was too dangerous for them to be left to this pursuit. And in verse 8 it reads…

So the LORD scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they ceased building the city.

The very thing that man was trying to avoid by building this celestial city ended up sealing that very fate. What’s the literary term for this. Oh yes, irony. This is stuff Hollywood tries to manufacture (yet they’re re-making Spiderman for the fourth time?).

The population at Bable made two major, yet very human errors that I am glad to be reminded of: they failed to place their identity in the Lord, and they believed they were in control of their lives. For very different reasons, every human on earth struggles with these two defining characteristics of a joyful, fruitful life. Whether it was the way we were raised, the experiences we’ve encountered, they cynicism we’ve adopted, the failures or the successes, for one reason or another may of us miss these universal truths until we’re facedown in the dirt wondering how we got there.

Let me save us all some time…stop trying to control your life. Jesus said “for whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.” It’s a classic paradox, but classically illustrated in Genesis 11.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

And being grieved by the hopelessness of this script I am compelled to reply…

“Victus”

Though the darkness of night is near,

The realm is conquered by the light.

The “gods” that may or may not hear,

Bow at the only true God’s sight.

Though circumstances shared by all,

Leave you bloody, unbowed, or filled,

Your cries of pain or joy enthrall

The throne where hope and life is willed.

Beyond this place of sin and fear

Lies the rest from the earthly shade.

Where breaths of life redeem the years

And present souls stand unafraid.

It matters most how straight the gate,

The weight of grace upon the scroll.

HE is the master of my fate.

HE is the captain of my soul.

I admit that my rebuttal is neither as potent nor eloquent as Mr. Henley’s, but mine is the only one bearing any semblance of truth. The saddest part of it all is that I am well acquainted with people that not only believe but live out the Henley philosophy of life. It burdens my soul that people are so calloused and ignorant that they refuse to exhale all the burdens of life and breath in the unspeakable freedom and joy of a God-governed lifestyle.

Have a wonderful day. Give God glory.

]]> http://freshmanpastor.wordpress.com/2010/03/03/a-poet-i-am-not/feed/ 2 Brandon http://freshmanpastor.wordpress.com/2010/01/07/there-we-sat-criminals/ http://freshmanpastor.wordpress.com/2010/01/07/there-we-sat-criminals/#comments Thu, 07 Jan 2010 21:35:18 +0000 Brandon http://freshmanpastor.wordpress.com/?p=246 ]]> The courthouse was nestled in the busiest district of downtown Honolulu on a Seussian, wet, rainy day.

There we sat. Criminals. Awaiting our judgment. Hoping the gavel wouldn’t bruise as it came down to crush us. I did all I could to occupy my mind as I waited for the judge. I studied the walls—”nice Koa.” I counted the light fixtures—13. I cautiously glanced at the sorry sap to my right and the woman to my left who didn’t look like she belonged there, much like myself. I sat uncomfortable in the non-cushioned, need-another-coat-of-shellac wooden torture chair (ok, bench), trying desperately not to wrinkly my freshly pressed pants and tucked-in lavender shirt with matching tie, hoping the more surly of the criminals wouldn’t beat me up because I looked and dressed more like an attorney than a fellow law-breaker.

The young prosecuting attorney laid out her ever-important files and folders, pens and clips, pads (now I know why they call them “legal” pads) and post-its, all held neatly in what appeared to be a Hello Kitty bag with matching plastic pencil box, preparing herself for what would surely be a lengthy and tongue-twisting process ahead of her.

The public defendant sat playing with his phone, blatantly ignoring the myriad faded yellow sheets of paper taped elegantly around the room, stating clearly in black block lettering, “Turn OFF all phones and pagers.” He’s the criminal, not me.

I watched, and studied, and pondered the dynamic in the room. How one small divider with a little wooden swinging door could cut the line between dramatically differing sentiments and emotions at that moment. A separation of the Judged and the Judges. The bailiff joked with the clerk. The PD flirted with the DA. And there we sat. Criminals.

Arriving 20 minutes late, the “no-nonsense” judge ushered in our nightmare, and the inquisition began. We were called one-by-one to line up at the firing squad behind the little wooden swinging door. They went alphabetically. (Thank you, Dad, for giving me a name that begins with C). But this is Hawaii. And there are a LOT of Chois, Chens, Chows, Chings, and unpronounceable Samoan names that inexplicably begin with B. All of us, criminals.

A few cases in, it became clear that the Judge was in no mood for questions or dialogue. He wanted to get through this docket and get back on the links. We were ordered to have our documents ready. Approach the bench when called. State our full name. Hand over the appropriate materials to the DA. Hold our breaths as longs as possible. Stand in the Uttanasana yoga position. And prepare ourselves for instant death. I couldn’t stop thinking about Seinfeld and the “Soup Nazi”. It made me want to eat Lobster bisk soup…with bread. My stomach gurgled.

There was the case of the 30-something vietnamese man who operated a motor vehicle without being properly examined and approved for that class of vehicle. There was the case of the young Japanese girl who go caught driving 95mph in a 45 zone. May she rest in peace. A few of them needed interpreters. Others, obviously ESL, needed additional explanation about what a plea of No Contest meant, as opposed to Guilty or Not Guilty. Another 7 cases. Anther 9. 12 more dismissals. 3 bench-warrants for non-arrivals.

Then I arrived at the front of the line. My knees gently touching the swinging divider in front of me. My hands firmly grasping my umbrella. Partially for balance, and partially so that I would be prepared to fight off the bailiff and her minions if things turned ugly.

I took four steps forward to the edge of the bench. I handed over my documents and stated my name in the microphone aimed at my belly button, only hesitating for a moment when I realized that I reversed the order and should have stated my name first. MAN! No soup, one year!

It took three seconds, maybe four, for the DA to look at the affidavit I provided her and speak the delightful words to the austere, Japanese judge sitting five feet above and behind her, “your honor, I move to dismiss on proof.” Whatever that meant, it sounded good. It was. Before the judge could even finish speaking the official judgment, dismissing me of any wrongdoing, saving me from a cold, lonely evening with a 400 pound man called “Biscuits”, with whom I was sure to be sharing a cell, I sat down next to the bailiff, waiting for her to run me through the final check-out stage of my acquittal.

Though I was fairly certain of this outcome, relief was all I could feel at that moment. The nightmare. Over. I stood to leave only to glance back at the sorry souls whose names were unfortunate enough to begin somewhere behind the letter D. And there they sat. Criminals.

I’ve sat through many teachings on this passage, listened to different studies, read a few commentaries and until this morning I had never gained another perspective on what happened this day. The majority of the commentary on this passage seems to suggest that what Jesus was writing in the dirt was the significant factor in the event. Questions will be raised about what He wrote: was it the individual sins of the Pharisees that Jesus wrote out? Was it a scripture reference (though those didn’t exist in their writings)? Was it the word “LOVE”? Was it song lyrics? A haiku? A proverb? I’m not convinced that it matters. As I read this morning, it seemed more and more clear to me that the writing in the dirt was the least significant part of this passage. It even said that He wrote, not to get their attention, but to ignore them. He fumbled in the dirt to display His annoyance and non-support for the Pharisee’s feeble attempts at trapping Him, and their utterly detestable representation of the Law and the Lord. What He wrote, if it was even words, was not the thing that provoked the hearts of the Pharisees to abandon their shameful acts. Verse 9 says, “those who HEARD it…” speaking about Jesus’ previous statement in verse 7. It doesn’t say, those who read it. It doesn’t say, “when the Pharisee, who was positioned in such a way as to read what Jesus wrote, passed the message along to the rest of the Pharisees, they marveled and were convicted by their conscience.”

I think we can get too tied up in what the scritpre “really means”, and in doing so fail to see the forest for the trees. I love how simple and understandable the Bible is and remains to be. God says what He means, He means what He says, and He speaks in such a way that makes sense to us, and has given us His clear, simple, plain word so we can live by it. I love that about God.

Here is were this post takes a dramatic turn to mourning. If you’ve read any two posts on this blog you’ve surely come across the agony I have found in staking my claim in the camp of the Oakland Raiders. Being a fan at conception, I have found moments of celebration in a lifetime of frustration, and yesterday’s game against the Chargers was no exception. Like many faithful inhabitants of Raider Nation I was reticent to boast about anything with the 09 roster, coaching staff, or what each were capable of given the nature of the other, but as the game unfolded it wasn’t as bad as it has been. Plays were made, passes were completed, McFadden showed a little of the work-horse we’ve longed for him to be, Russel wasn’t near the disappointment he’s been in the past two seasons, and points were scored. Never mind the Raiders had a difficult time closing in the Red Zone, never mind there were way too many dropped balls to be as dominant as is necessary to beat a division rival like the Chargers. The Raiders were successfully putting drives together, they were converting on third down, they made some brilliant stops on defense, and they were UP with 5 minutes to go in the game. And then it all came crumbling down…

Injuries, turnovers, and a Hindenburgesque collapes of the pass rush overwhelmed the admirable effort the Raiders made as the Chargers marched down the field, converting enumerable first downs on the way to an effortless push into the endzone to go up by 4 with 18 seconds to go. With enough time for two plays, Cable decided to go for the hail mary right away. Of course, it was intercepted shy of the endzone, officially quenching the push for a 1-0 Raiders opener, and with it the resurreceted hopes of Raider Nation. It was a sad evening. Now, I’m not a pessimist. On the contrary, I am actually an optimist, and one more loss won’t change it. That said, I saw a lot of improvement on the Raider’s roster. Russel was, by far, not as poor as we’ve seen, McFadden has woken up from him slumber, the O-line gave good protection, and the Raider Defense improved by leaps and bounds. It was a good effort in a game that nobody thoght would be close. So here I sit, holding on to hope that next week will give us something to cheer us one more week.

The Lakers win! The Lakers win! It wasn’t flashy, and it wasn’t close, but game 5 proved to be all the same for a Laker fan like me. I actually expected much more of a fight from Orlando, even thinking that they may push it to one more game, but I’ll take the win. Kobe has proven to himself and to the NBA community that he is committed and has the staying power that many critics thought he lacked. With this win, the Lakers have firmly cemented themselves into that coveted spot of, not only the world champions, but the most hated team in basketball. Why? No, not because they beat the underdog, but because they are that good. They exert their will on their opponents. When they play poorly, they win. Like the Raiders of the 70-80s. Like the Yankees.

The Raiders have made some good off-season acquisitions that may or may not provide any movement forward come August. The signing of Jeff Garcia is definitely a bonus at 2nd string. Though he has proven to be streaky in his performance over the years, having a veteran around cannot hurt an extremely young and inexperienced QB squad. Greg Ellis is another veteran Defensive End that should help the ailing run defense of the Raiders. I must admit that I like the movement and activity of the Raiders this off-season, but I have my reservations about any lasting positive effects. Why? Do I really need to say this again? Al Davis. The Raiders could fill a roster with Pro-Bowl athletes and still miss the playoffs because of their utterly dysfunctional management staff. It’s sad, but true. My fingers are crossed for ’09-’10.

The Angels are on a winning streak with a season high six wins. They have yet to prove themselves against the the top teams, but their keeping their heads above .500 and are only a few games out of the lead in the AL West. With Scott Shields now out for the season, the weakest spot in the Angels arsenal has now only gotten weaker. With the Dodgers, Rangers, and Yankess coming up in the next three weeks, the Halo team needs to work out the kinks quickly.

The Ducks…it’s been a long, tough, emotional season that ended in heartache and disappointment. The only consolation…? The team that beat them lost. It was a good finale for the sport, which is consistently hurting for viewers and fans. But this is not the ending we Ducks fans were hoping for. But here’s to next season. Luckily the NHL off-season is the shortest in sports.

Will Tiger win the U.S. Open? Mickelson? The great thing about the Open is that you can never really be that sure in your predictions. I think Tiger has the best shot. But, then again, why wouldn’t the #1 golfer in the world have a fighting chance in every contest in which he plays? If the weather is any glimps of the drama and suprise this year’s Open has in store, we’re in for quite a ride. See you on the 18th on Sunday…

As a Christian (and a relatively young one at that), I’ve been continually confronted with the reality that religion is a tempting substitute for a relationship with God. Clearly laid out in the Bible, I have been warned of my  nature to design my relationship with God around my works and actions, rather than relying on God’s grace and trusting in His unyielding love for me. The natural outcome for such misguided theology is to base the strength of my experience with God and my spiritual condition on the “things I do for God.” Examples of this might be reading my Bible every morning, praying before every meal, attending church every week, wearing my Christian T-shirt to the mall, making sure my fish car decal is firmly affixed to my Saturn, etc. The irony with these things is that each is a perfectly acceptable, and in many cases necessary, act of a functioning Christian, yet the motivations can vary wildly. And it is through this variation that we, as Christians, can careen off the path of a deep, spiritual relationship with God and onto the freshly paved thoroughfare of dead, meaningless religion.

In mathematics, it’s call the Order of Operations. If you don’t tackle a math problem in the right order, the final solution will be completely wrong. Similarly, our relationship with God, as it pertains to our actions as Christians, can be completely genuine, but also completely useless. James writes that “faith without works is dead.” Many religions will use this quote (out of context) to advance their thinking that works and acts define a person’s faith and will thus EARN a Christian into heaven. However, the true context reveals that our sincere faith is proven by the outpouring of love and integrity found in the acts of a Christian. Our works are merely and external image of a sincere, internal faith. Having this understaning frees us from the struggle of needing to “do things for God.” And in this way, my guilt for failing to study my Bible yesterday, for skipping church last month, or for wearing my O’neill shirt rather than my “Jesus loves you” shirt, is completely unfounded and pointless. God, in His amazing grace, has saved us from such a lifestyle and replaced it with joy in the knowledge of His love.

If you’re reading this thinking “man, this guy is frustrated”, double it and add a few more measures ’cause I’m at my end. We’ll see if I’m right…I’ll be glad to eat my humble pie if somehow this turns out to be a positive pick, but I think I’ll be tasting the dry, bitter wafer of yet another sub .500 season.

Does this mean that the Lakers are already out of it? Of course not! They have as much chance as anybody, and maybe more than some. But rather than hoist the trophy now, I’d rather spread out my chickens and root my team one game at a time. It’s sure to be an exciting playoffs. If the talking heads are right, the Championship matchup between the Cavaliers and Lakers will be one for the books. 

I’ll see you Sunday for Game 1 of the Lakers vs. Jazz.

I’ll leave the bloggers buffet for another post but I just wanted to say that it’s good to be back. I only hope there’s a few of you left out there that still check in from time to time. 

On a side note, it’s 7:30am on Saturday. I’m at the Calvary Chapel Spring Break Youth Camp ’09, I didn’t get much sleep last night, and we’re about to have a VERY long day. Pray for me…and for these kids that deperately need Jesus in their lives.