Samson

I'm in Holland with the boys from the band in which I play bass guitar. We are staying with a missionary-friend we have known for many years.

The other day we were having a conversation about Samson. In my mind, he is one of the most controversial of Israel's judges. Honestly, it is hard for me to find any redemption in his story. God gives him a great gift, he uses it to purue his own desires and get revenge on those who have angered him, he lives lustfully, repeatedly engaging in commitments with the enemies of the people of God, and in the end he displays a great lack of common sense which leads to capture and demise.

Of course, one could argue, we are all imperfect, and God used Samson despite himself to slay a few thousand Philistines--to which I can only offer a sarcastic 'yay.'

So he slayed a few thousand enemies. David's strong men accomplished mightier things. I don't think the point of this story is that God uses imperfect people despite themselves. Although it is true that we are all imperfect, I think there is a difference between a leader who is after the heart of God and, well, Samson.

No, I think a more important point to be drawn from Samson's story is that power without maturity, a gift without a right heart, is very nigh useless.

Many powerful people are proud and protective of their power, but that was never the example of Jesus. Jesus used his power to empower others. In fact, Jesus used his power to empower worldly people. He layed his power down to be a servant, to lift others up, to set an example, to be inclusive, to strengthen the weak. In fact, he said that if the strong wish to follow him, they must become weak.

We all have gifts. At one place or another, we are all 'powerful' people. The question is whether we will use our power like Jesus, for others, or like Samson, for ourselves. Samson could have changed the world. Jesus did.

Gum Wrappers and Hope for Romania

The last couple days my friend Rik from Belgium and I have been playing soccer with some Romanian kids we met here in Baia Mare. Two days ago we gave them some gum during a break and they immediately threw their wrappers on the ground. Rik and I playfully scolded them.

"This isn't America!" They replied.

"Oh?" I said, "And who's going to change Romania?"

"Basescu!" They laughed. (Basescu is the president.)

"You have to be the change." I smiled. (Of course, all that was in Romanian.)

Anyways, yesterday we all took a piece of gum during a break again. Without a word, they collected their wrappers and handed them to the oldest to throw away.

While gum wrappers may not be a big deal, what I learned from this funny little anecdote is that their is hope for Romania in its children. Let's do all that we can to encourage them to be that hope.

Învaţ

Everyday I study and converse with an assorted group of 34 other persons also studying Romanian, representing 15 or 16 different countries. My mornings are spent soaking my brain with grammar lessons--which are never given in english. During the afternoon I listen to lectures in Romanian, throw pottery at a little Romanian pottery shop, go out into Romanian villages, or play soccer to get some exercise. In the evenings I usually watch Romanian films, do my Romanian homework, and then either go out with some fellow students or complete some personal writing.

Essentially, I eat, drink, and breathe Romanian. It's excellent.

The multi-cultured table conversations have been enormously enlightening. I wouldn't trade this experience for the world. It is stretching me in many ways.

So, despite many setbacks, my heart steadfastly trusts that his love will win in the end.

Amen.

The road is as home to me as my sheets.

I’m in Amsterdam at the moment, visiting my lovely musician friend Leslie for a few days. Friday I leave to study Romanian in northern Romania for three weeks. Then I’ll return to Amsterdam to meet up with the boys from the band I play in. Perhaps we’ll write an album while we’re here, but we won’t be playing any shows since we lost our vocalist.

I love my friends at home, I have a wonderful family, but traveling has become an addiction for me. It is nourishment for my bones.

The Lord has me close to his heart. Close enough that its beating occasionally succeeds in drowning out noise of my cynical thoughts. That’s necessary now. He holds on to me, and I love him, and he is giving me his eyes.

Brilliant.

The traveling has been smooth thus far. Leslie stays with a lovely family with three small, energetic children. Although I’ve not met him yet, there is a young man staying here from Britain, and apparently he is a soccer player, so I’m excited to do some skill building!

Soulful

Jazz music. Sometimes I find life very frustrating, other times it is quite friendly--but it is always difficult to understand. Solomon said that with wisdom comes much sorrow. Sorrow, because there is always another side, and you can never know. Sorrow, because people live in tragic filth because of their ignorance. Sorrow, because the world is content to live in its self-defined structures without regarding the fact they built them.

So, jazz music. Jazz music understands the turmoil of life and takes it in without offering an answer. Answers only become stale. Except Jesus. But Jesus isn't really an answer, although we treat him like one. No, he was a son. A son of the most high God.

He's kind of like jazz music. He took life in. He saw people. He loved them. He helped them. He didn't always fix them, but he pointed them toward a cure for their meaninglessness: love. Not that love was a new idea, but he defined it in a different way. He defined it by undefining it, and just living it.

As for our precious cultural and religious institutions, I can only quote the prophet Isaiah, "He feeds on ashes, a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, 'Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?'"

We have idolized our ways of doing things, but we have too much to lose to rock the boat. Sorry, sorry excuse for rational beings.

Mmhm.

Honestly, sometimes I struggle with the nihilism in my own soul. Epistemology is a waste of time, but it's frustrating to ponder the absurdity of our lives. Solomon wrote extensively on the subject. Of course, there is recognizable beauty in life, and we should pursue it, but we must be careful not to take ourselves too seriously, because the truth is we don't know the answers. I don't know the answers. I only know Jesus. And I know him by faith, his faith in me as much as my faith in him. He held on to me when I could no longer hold on to him, and so I've devoted myself to him.

But that doesn't mean I understand. It only means that I trust.

It is true that the traditional foundations of our faith are under question. A lot of Christians seem to be concerned. I don't think I have the energy to be concerned. After all, we serve a God who has said that he values honesty. We shouldn't avoid the reality of our own ignorance, we should face it, as genuine human beings. If God is really God, he certainly is capable of defending and continuing his faith.

Really though, I'm glad our esteemed institutions are toppling. I think it's hilarious. They have become ironically arrogant anyways. Jesus didn't teach superiority, he taught meekness. If anything, I think we are returning to faith. God is humbling the world—Christians and non-christians alike. It's like the tower of Babel. We thought we could accomplish anything, that we had become like gods, but now we can't even decide if we exist.

Let's return to the simplicity of Christ's message. There is only hope in faith and in love.

p.s. Aaron is home from the hospital, doing very well. I have been reading 'Three' by Ted Dekker to him, and taking him out on his wheelchair so he can smoke cigarettes in the nice weather.

A time for mourning.

On Sunday, four of my friends from the youth ministry I work at were in a car accident. The driver died, the passenger almost died, and the two in the back were fine.

I spoke at the driver's funeral on Friday. At least two hundred teenagers took off school to attend. I've been visiting the passenger in the hospital every day.

It's been real hard for everyone, of course. Nonetheless, I am seeing Jesus' love show up everywhere in this situation. It's been an excellent opportunity for me to love on the boy who was in the passenger seat. He broke two vertebrae in his neck, lost half of his left-index finger, broke his ankle, bruised his lung, and has plenty of stitches, but he is alive. I sit with him, read to him, bring his family food--it's been a real relational time, and although it has made my already busy life nearly impossible, I can't convince myself that there is anything better to do than go show that boy Christ's love. He does after all have a long road ahead of him.

Here's my plug for Regent: being an online student, I have been able to take my computer to the hospital many times this week. When Aaron (the kid) fell asleep, I'd type away, and when he woke up, I would talk to him. I love the flexibility of learning online, even though I sometimes wish I had more interaction with other intellectuals.

Oh yeah, it's been quite a week. The Lord gives me strength, of this I have zero doubt. Even when my legs give way, I don't fall. His plan is for me to be able right now, and so I am.