June 2

That was no ordinary quesadilla.
It was prepared by the chefs at El Torito,
and had the grease and guacamole, yes,
and eating it was still a good idea;
but friendship was the spice that made it sweet. Oh,
how I love being a birthday guest!

A tack

My words are made of nails, pins, and plastic swords.
Listen, but you may be pierced or torn,
'cause inside, even I feel pressed back
between a wall
and a tack.

The Opossum

This is the story of the opossum that lived. Late tonight I was walking down the road to Wiley Hall. While passing by Finch, I saw the silhouettes of Jackie Armstrong and Andy staring into the bushes across the road.

"Just keep walking," Jackie said to me. I kept walking and noticed, in the ice plants and bushes to my right, a creature the size of a small, thin fooball. Its white fur was illuminated in the descending moon and the lamppost lights from nearby parking lots.

"He was hit by a car," Jackie said. I stepped away and the opossum stumbled onto the street, which was streaked in two places with what could have been oil, except for one spot where flesh seemed to bubble like small chunks of cranberry sauce.

The opossum slouched a few paces, slumped to its left side, hesitated, stepped forward, and sank again. "It looks like his rear left leg was dislocated from its socket," Andy said.

The headlights of a van approached; Jackie stood in front of the opossum and I raised my hand. A guy stepped out of the passenger's side and immediately knelt beside the opossum. The van veered out of sight. The guy took off his sandal and used it to nudge the back of the opossum, which wouldn't move.

"You better stay away," Andy told the guy, "you don't know if he might go crazy. If he bites you, you could get an infection worse than the swine flu. . . just kidding."

But the guy started petting the opossum, which turned its head sideways a couple times. "He's giving up," the guy said when the opossum still wouldn't move. "Most possums wouldn't let you touch them like this."

"Think we should put him out of his misery?" Andy asked.

"Is there a 24-hour public safety, where we could get a shovel?" the guy asked.

Although I didn't say so, I didn't favor killing the opposum. Maybe it could live, even without a functioning leg. I'm never sure what to do when it comes to putting an animal out of its misery.

I hesitated stepping on a beetle a couple weeks ago. It was afternoon, and I was walking up the hill by Hendricks which overlooks the field, and I noticed a beetle, half of its shiny black body pushed thin to the sidewalk and the other half wriggling. I decided there was no way it would live anything close to the life it was intended to live, so I closed my eyes and stepped on it, and then with a piece of paper picked up its still body and slid it onto the dirt on the other side of the chain-link fence. Although I was unsure if killing it was the right thing to do, I felt afterwards that maybe it could have been right.

But tonight seemed a different circumstance. For a few minutes, the opossum stood on the street staring out into the ocean, a scarlet narrow triangle slashed through its left cheek and ink black eyes, and then it began hobbling again, back into the bushes. As the opossum climbed over the crimson curb and onto the mulch, the guy put on his sandal and walked away. After I looked aside and back again, the opossum was nestled where two thick branches meet.

"Look, it's in the tree," Jackie said.

Then it began pulling itself up the branches, higher and higher until I could no longer see it.

"Think it'll be alright?" I asked.

"It looks like he'll be good," Andy said.

"He just needs some time to recuperate," Jackie said. "Like have you seen those soccer players when they injure their legs?" She held her knee as though it were broken. "They rest for a little while and then they get up again and score some goals."

Then she looked up in the tree. "Just don't get back onto the street, guy."

Some questions I have

(Excuse the sloppiness.)

Should it be our goal, as Christians, to relieve the suffering (death, genocide, disease, loneliness, violence) of the world? Or should our primary goal be obedience to Christ?

Doesn't Christ tell us to love one another, to take care of the stranger, visit the sick and imprisoned? What is it that God desires us to do?

Sometimes I get so caught thinking that he desires that I read the Bible more and pray more. And personal devotion to God is important. But Micah says, "This is what the Lord requires of you, that you do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God."

But I don't want to get so caught into issues of social justice that I forget the importance of being part of a local congregation--that is important, right? In Acts, the believers were together, breaking bread, praying, preaching, teaching, and it was during their time together that the Holy Spirit would move among them and use them to do mighty things, such as heal the sick, cast out demons in the name of Jesus.

Why isn't the Holy Spirit using the church today to do these things? I don't hear too many reports of people giving sight to the blind in the name of Jesus. But I still believe that God is using his church here in San Diego. Just because we don't see physical miracles taking place doesn't mean the Holy Spirit is not working through us at Southeast, right?

How is God working through us? What is God doing in my life? On Palm Sunday, I told Pastor Steve I wanted to see, know, follow Jesus, and he said that God hears my prayer and will continue to reveal where Jesus is at work in my life. Where is he at work in my life? In my writing? In music? Creative expression? In youth group? In all these things? Does he want me to hold them, bring them all together somehow?

And what about the suffering of the world? Today I was in a conversation with some people at lunch, and I told this girl who was overwhelmed by the world's problems that we should be faithful in our local churches. Is this right? If churches were faithful to God's commands--from "Love one another" to "Love your enemies" to "Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders, making the most out of every opportunity" to "Go and make disciples of all nations, teaching them the things I have commanded you and baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit"--would that help the world? Can we say that many of the world's calamaties were started by good intentioned people, Christians even, who tried to do things on their own, who tried to save the world--but didn't use wisdom or understanding, and weren't faithful in their local churches? I don't have any examples of this, I've just heard people talk about it. Or maybe many of the world's problems were caused by people who used Christianity for selfish gain.

But maybe obeying God's commands is the best thing we Christians can do in both helping the world and serving Christ. And has not God already been at work saving, rescuing, redeeming, restoring (each of these words mean slightly different things to me) the world through Jesus? "God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." It's not our job to save the world, but to participate in God's work, in God's kingdom, trusting that he will redeem the world through us.

And sometimes I wonder, is it God's purpose to redeem the world? Or just save us from our sins? In Acts, I don't hear the disciples talking about restoring creation or ending wars, but that people repent and receive the forgiveness of sins in Christ Jesus, who was crucified and raised to life. But then I think about the Easter sermon, and how Jesus was raised to life in his body, and he said "Peace." And this resurrection, this peace, is a fullness--not just a cleansing of our souls from sins, although forgiveness of sins is redemption, but bringing about the fullness of restoration to all parts of our lives.

And I remember what Paul says in Romans 8: "The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God." So the creation is waiting to be set free from decay, from death--the curse of sin, which has been removed, perhaps in the forgiveness of sins?--and brought into the freedom of the children of God. What is that freedom? Later, Paul says that we "groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." So our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies, sounds a lot like Jesus' resurrected body. Perhaps that is our goal, to be like Christ--not just in character, but in our bodies, to be resurrected just as he was. And I assume that all creation will one day be resurrected. "I saw a new heavens and a new earth."

This sounds so good, almost too good to be true, and it is this story that inspires me to keep believing. But sometimes I wonder if I really believe in Jesus. Or if I just practice Christianity, believe in Jesus, because these are rules I was told to follow. Still, Kierkegaard said that Christ doesn't want believers; he wants followers. Perhaps I can follow Jesus even when I don't quite believe in him yet, or fully, and in following him, I develop faith.

I think that if you want to know what someone believes, look at how they live. What do they do? What do they say? How do they treat others? So maybe I do believe in Jesus if I follow his commands, even if I doubt.

I also think that our lifestyle influences our beliefs. I used to think that our beliefs influence our lifestyle, our actions, our words, and to some extent maybe they do--or at least, maybe they cause us to stop and think about what we're doing. But I think generally we live a certain way and then try to justify it by adjusting our beliefs, our worldview.

For instance, if someone practices Christianity but wasn't raised to go to church, or have had bad experiences in churches, they try to justify an individualistic faith, one that doesn't require them to share life with other believers/followers. Or if someone goes to a church that prohibits musical instruments in worship to God, that person will view the Bible through those lens, and thus develop a belief and interpretation of the Bible that prohibits the use of instruments.

But then, let's say, they start going to a church that uses instruments. If they trust that this new church is just as valid in the body of Christ as their first church, they will look at the Bible differently, and then change their beliefs concerning the use of musical instruments.

So is God more concerned about how we live rather than what we believe? Yet, two people may do the very same thing but believe differently. And I believe this does make a difference in the long run. If I read the Bible because I think God will be angry at me if I don't, then eventually I'll wear out, or at least I'll have a strange view of God. And this will probably affect my relationships with others, too. Maybe I'll be judgmental towards those who don't wake up early to read their Bible, and I'll consider them less of a Christian than myself--an attitude I do not think Jesus would like. But someone else could read the Bible because they want to hear from God, or because they consider it a discipline they need, like eating. So they will continually be hungry. I give these examples to say that perhaps it does matter what we believe, because eventually our beliefs will translate into actions.

So I guess belief and practice go together. They influence each other. So this post, maybe, is worthwhile, because it's important to discover what we believe, what we don't believe, and what questions we ask.

A Whisper and a Kiss

A whisper was enough to bring your mind
back from the deep. And when you woke, I think
you wondered when or where you were. The shine
on steel from lights above the kitchen sink
and running water greeted your descent,
the supper ready. You saw the dimming light
outside, that extinguished sky that winter lent.
You went to bed again; I said, "Good night."

The moon this morning may have kissed my face,
for I awoke before the twilight spilled
to look for Jesus in this throbbing place.
I might have felt his feet. Was it his will
to wake us with a whisper and a kiss?
Lord, give me nothing else but this.