the cynic and the pure in heart

A perfect place for the misunderstanding of who, where, and why I have become the silenced apathetic population of believers I criticized. Confidant of self-importance, shined up and sparkled by the intense criticism I’ve found towards the hypocritical family I grew up in. It is better to be lonely and free, it is better to be lost then claim to be found. How did it became enough to criticize and sleep in the place where truth neither sings nor speaks, and instead, is content to wrestle within my heart for some indefinite period? Scared off by those who cut the ears of Romans I’ve allied with the diplomats who speak of truth as one who rules over both the heathen and religious and has tired of the hypocrisy of both parties. WHAT IS TRUTH?! I show my clean hands to the religious and my citizenship to the democratic, yet where are the pure in heart?

In the midst of disillusionment the attraction of Pontious Pilot is a tempting force that is subtle and deceiving. It is noble to admit lack of knowledge, and it is easy to allow the innocent to be crucified, when showing mercy on the murderer. The allure is strengthened by the weight of the empire, which attaches itself to the skeptic. Speak in critical tones, and the feeling of all the power this age begins to pulse through ones veins like cocaine; and it feels so good. It is unfortunate that the heart is deceitfully wicked, just as it is unfortunate that cocaine will kill you.

So where are the pure in heart. Well they are seeing God, and why? Because, they refuse to see anything else. John the beloved sits at the foot of the cross, his church just split, his belief system just got trampled, and his friends are no where to be found, yet his eyes are fixed on Jesus, and no one in history has seen God like he did.

Have you seen God?

I read the beatitudes yesterday morning. I have lately been frustrated with the apparent absence of God. Jesus said in the beatitudes that the pure in heart shall see God, so I’m wondering what it means to be pure in heart because I haven’t seen God lately. Any thoughts?

From friends to brothers.

MMM what a beautiful day! The bread is warm and fresh, the curry is smelling beautiful the noise of the street peddlers is music to my ears….yet there is something new, like a different language shouting over the rest of noise….what is….is that two Americans?!

Ok so I left off with Jason and I shouting and pushing each other in the middle of a street in some random city in the middle of India. In hindsight it was quite a comical scene, East Indians are pretty non-confrontational, so they were running out of there shops surrounding and asking us, with a great accent with bobbing heads, what the problem was and trying to calm us down….but we were having none of it. Thankfully it never came to punches, it probably would of but in the back of my mind I had this picture the two of us with bloody noses and swollen eyes crammed into the hot bus sulking with Heather sitting between us for the next five hours. Yet the intensity was real, and we did have a sulking bus ride.

I sat in the back by myself listening to my ipod, I didn’t really no what the problem was, we had a miscommunication, and there was just a lot of stress in general. Traveling outside of the states with friends really can do a lot for friendship, in one way or another. For most of the day I was just mad frustrated that I wasn’t listened to, what really was the kicker though is what happened when we got to the airport.

For most of the trip we were flying standby, which included from India to Thailand, so after a few hours running around the New Dehli Airport it became obvious that we weren’t going to Thailand together. I was going to have to go ahead and wait in Thailand until they got a flight, it could be hours or days. So here we are going from fighting and sulking to all of a sudden we are leaving each other. Talk about an emotional roller coaster! It is amazing how circumstances can so quickly change things, I went from frustrated and angry to sad and tearful that I had to leave my friends. Jason and I went from being temporary enemies to being brothers, honestly the fact that we had gotten in such an intense argument seemed to make the connection between us seem twice as strong…..

So I’m on my flight and decide to use the bathroom before they confine us to our seats, as I wash my face I look at myself in the mirror and just try to grasp everything that happened and how I am now on the way to Thailand by myself. I’m pretty independent but I’ll be honest it felt really lonely. As I squeeze my way out of the awkward bathroom door I hear my voice being shouted in some weird accent, Kreees Kreees Doose? I look and Jason is shouting my name with the biggest grin smirked all over his bearded face, somehow, some crazy way how, Jason and Heather had gotten on to my flight way after the gates had closed.

What matters to you?

I guess there is a lot of hype over Derek Webb’s new CD. Immediately my thoughts were that Derek Webb is just doing his controversial publicity stunt again. I mean seriously, a song that is rejected by a label so that you have to get the “real” album from his website, that is pretty cliché bitter indi musician.

then I heard it.

How’s the married life?!

dancing

For the 250^th time, “um….good I guess.” Of course it’s good, what kind of question is that? I don’t know what people want me to say or if they even know what they are saying for that matter. It seems, people recognize that a significant event has taken place and that it probably needs to be brought up in the course of a 2 minute conversation. Thus a question that begs a simple black and white answer is proposed.

To be perfectly honest life hasn’t changed that much. I guess some practical changes that could seem monumental have taken place, one bank account, changing of Melissa’s name and living together, are some examples. Life is still happening though, I’m in school and we both go to work and we hang out with friends just like we used to. There is no doubt that there is this underlying belief in our culture about how a person is supposed to change with the new role of being a husband or wife, I haven’t found that yet.

Saying all that I must mention that there is one thing that I have felt stronger than ever before, and that is peace. I don’t know if it’s just the stillness that comes after a storm time will tell. What I believe it is though, is being where one is supposed to be. I’m supposed to be with Melissa, I’m supposed to live in the same house as her and wake up beside her in the morning, and because I am, my soul is at peace, so thank you Jesus for that.

Matrimony

So yeah there is a wedding that I’ve been pretty involved in helping to set up happening next week and I’m wondering when it’s going to settle in that…… ……… IT’S MINE!!! I guess there is probably a number of directions I could go with this blog, I could talk about the craziness, the stress the nerves. I could talk about learning how to become a member of another family, I could talk about the myth that a wedding should be about the bride and groom, or I could talk about the onset of cultural garbage that tries to force feed itself down our throats on a daily basis. But obviously that wouldn’t be very romantic and not nearly sappy enough. While I do think I have some things to say about all those things, it would be wise to wait a month or so after the wedding to dive into the details.
The very bottom line of the whole deal is this: I’m going to spend the rest of my life with one of the most beautiful persons I have ever met (no offense to the rest of you all), and I’m stoked. I’m super in love with this girl and despite every old man’s “just wait” I know that we have a very exciting future ahead of us. Majority of marriages these days will get you down. Yet we boast in ours, we do not boast of ourselves but of Christ. Granted hard times await, yet that was true before we decided to get married.
The hope is not that we are bound to make each other happy, or that we will never be lonely; instead, the joy is that we will teach each other what it means to lay down our lives for another and the hope is that we will learn how to love in deeper ways than would be possible for us to learn outside of this calling. The excitement is that in the process I get to spend a lifetime getting to know someone who’s life and laughter has literally enslaved my heart.
MMM I think it’s starting to settle in.

Elevating in India

“Lord make me to know my end, and what is the measure of my days….. certainly every man at his best state is but vapor.” Ps 39:4,5

There are defining moments in our lives that reveal the sovereignty of God to our souls, experiences which highlight the reality that our lives are not in our own hands but instead they are following a story that was written before time. This enlightenment was given to me somewhere between an 800 ft. cliff, a blaring melodic horn, a rickety, rusty bus and a speeding taxi-cab on a single lane highway that switchbacked the ascent from Dera Dun to Mussorie India.  The philosophy was that if the horn was loud enough one could approach a blind turn with as much speed that the 1985 diesel engine could provide.

Mussorie is a kind of resort town for the upperclass New Dehli families. Commodities range, from a gondola to the top of the mountain, to teenage boys who will gladly push your infant in a stroller for you while you shop, they even provide the stroller. Though the Himalayas were fogged over by dust storms the whole time, it was nice to get above the heat and see a view of India from some elevation. We even climbed high enough to see some monkeys playing in conifer trees.

The three of us seemed to be doing great together, but in hindsight I can see where little comments and frustrations were starting to surface between Jason and I. On top of this it was clear that unity of purpose had been lost somewhere along the journey, we really didn’t know why we were in Mussorie, sure we wanted to see mountains, but this was hardly the destination we had in mind for our trip to India. When we were in Israel we had talked about praying for the sick, and seeing God work miracles through our lives to the people of India; we hadn’t prayed for anyone, much less even talked to God together since the night we arrived.

Perhaps it was descending back into the heat, maybe it was an embarrassment of a shortage of funds to pay the bus fare, it could have been the intense muslim call to prayer blaring in the background, or the fear of being left alone in an unknown town in the middle of India. Whatever it was, a crowd was gathering around the two tall white guys who were fighting in the middle of the street.

A Lesson in Flattery

Speaking of flattery check out this video by mewithoutyou for a story I wish I would have heard quite a while ago, I promise you’ll be entertained.

Monkeys and War gods

“JASON! CLOSE THE WINDOW! HURRY! IT”S COMING OVER HERE!” Up to this point I had been quietly sleeping, it was early in the morning in Rishiskish India, at what seemed to be the only cool time of day, the only time really condusive for rest; also the time when the monkeys like to play. Jason had woken up early and discovered a family of monkeys on the hotel roof across from ours. Wanting to get a closer look he tossed some cookies across the ally to try and lure some of the monkeys over. He had, however underestimated their cunning and acrobatics, I think Heather woke up just in time to see a monkey very quickly making its way across the telephone line to get to the source of the flying cookies; our wide open window. While the monkeys are entertaining from a distance up close they are big and have decently intimidating teeth. The window was closed in a fit of relieved and nervous laughter, and we were in India.
Rishikish is known as the yoga capitol of the world, made famous in part by the Beatles who journeyed here for their spiritual pilgrimages. The city is mostly made up of spiritual communes and tourist shops. The Hindis travel here to wash in the Ganges river under the banner of the river war-god in order to gain fortune and healing. It is no surprise in hindsight that it was here that after two weeks of the three of us traveling together that the tensions began to rise. At one point a “sadhu” approached us on our walk home at night and said some flattering things to me and said some critical things to Jason. Unfortunately, I soaked up the flattery in foolishness and allowed the words spoken to fulfill their purpose; to begin a division that would culminate in perhaps the most intense confrontation I’ve ever experienced four days later.

Out the Front Door

This is the first of a series of posts that will tell stories from some of the places I’ve been blessed to travel and visit. This is for the purpose of helping myself dissect my experience a little, in order realize some of the things I’ve learned; and of course to share my experience with others, which I have found from working at a coffee shop for eight years, to be both a joy and necessity for the human experience.

Beersheba

I wake in the desert of Israel to the sound of a young Hebrew boy asking me why I’m still asleep on the couch that he watches cartoons on, “after all”, he says, “the sun is already up”. I am staying with a farmer’s family, a farmer typical of many Israeli farmers, who’s innovations and creativity ends by importing herbs and vegetables from the desert to many parts of Europe and Asia. The boy’s mom joins us in the living room apologetically offering me a cup of strong Turkish style coffee. The coffee is ground fine and placed in cup on top of hot water, the grounds sink to the bottom leaving the almost espresso strength coffee on top.  After a breakfast of yogurt and fruit we set out on a tour of their farm. This family grew mostly cilantro, mint and other small herbs. Abi (the father) had created a type of soil and system that recycled the water that was not absorbed by the plants, an idea that later won him an award for most innovative farmer in Israel.
Beersheba is located in southern Israel where Bedowins, Arabs, and Orthodox Jews kind of mesh together to create a menagerie of culture. Being from Arizona I couldn’t help but fall in love with the area mostly because of my fondness for the desert. Seeing Abi and his family bring the desert to life was especially special, and a reminder that it is God who causes life to grow. We may plant and water but unless the blessing of God is present there will be no growth.

Me, Jason and Heather, with Abi, Mirjam, Da'al and Nevae.