Sermon on the Mount

This Sabbath I keep in Nature’s own church.
Grown tired of man’s pageantry for ego’s sake,
I humble myself on stony altar ‘neath one solemn birch.

Choirs of geese worship, as this sinner’s soul I search.
No crowd to please or reason to sincerity fake,
this Sabbath I keep in Nature’s own church.

Christ’s Sermon on the Mount was taught from such a perch.
Light snow whispers liturgy as bowed knees quake.
I humble myself on stony altar ‘neath one solemn birch.

I arise renewed—the grand panorama gives cause to lurch.
Testimonies whirl round me in each glistening flake.
This Sabbath I keep in Nature’s own church.

No apostate or hypocrite could this temple besmirch.
Holy Baptismal, each morn, is held reverently in virgin lake.
I humble myself on stony altar ‘neath one solemn birch.

Come hither, yon saints, and my denomination research.
Hear with me the still, small voice whose Truth I dare not forsake.
This Sabbath I keep in Nature’s own church.
I humble myself on stony altar ‘neath one solemn birch.

In the Midnight Hour

My Research Methods course is one of those scary classes that wields science like some leaden sword. You may duck it quite often and avoid the blows most of the time, but if it strikes you, you are in for a severe wound. I say this not to complain, but to make the point that it requires WORK. Academic work is one of those things that I have in the past been able to deftly avoid by luck, grace, or another means. Much of the work in this course has been reading. Such reading is often dry and uninteresting. But, there has been one theme that has emerged several times in the readings that I wholly agree with and am interested by.

We do not take time to think.

We may answer questions and solve problems, but much of this is stock and store. Rarely do we ever think. As I walked across campus tonight I took in the smell of incoming rain and the dances of lightning streaking across the clouds. I thought, this is a beautiful night. Admittedly, I did not immediately set to immerse myself in the nocturnal splendor. I did what I normally do, I get on my computer and dive into the social media to see who is doing what, and what issues they are grappling with. One of my friends mentioned that she was listening to the rain with book in hand and hot tea sitting by. What a novel idea! Hopefully by citing her ambiguously I am not plagiarizing her brilliance, but I did the exact same thing.

Assam tea was steeped in my earth-toned mug and granules of stevia were introduced. I dragged a raggedy wood chair (complete with paint splatter) onto my "porch" and began to read. I'm reading Francis Chan's "Forgotten God" currently. The book is about how Christians in today's society largely neglect the Holy Spirit. The book reinforces much that I already knew---that some people fear the Spirit as an emotional manifestation, others abuse its existence to attempt to edify themselves, and still others (who nonetheless claim to be Christian) are completely unaware of its existence. Granted, my spiritual background includes time spent in so-called "Charismatic" churches (labels, labels). But this issue grieves me seriously. The author confesses that he once openly denied the word of any person prophesying in modern times. I know many who are like this today. Yet, I have (and will continue to be) witness to such prophesying. I have seen an elderly woman speak with such boldness, authority, textual correctness and power that it was completely beyond her mortal ability. There was no denying it, just as there is no denying the importance of the Holy Spirit to the Christian faith. Unfortunately, so many churches are dead in the Spirit. There is no passion in their belief and there is no boldness and inspiration in their lives. Likewise, on the other end of the spectrum, there are churches that are full of passion and worship, but they do so not for the edification of God, but for their own ego and entertainment.

I was struck by such an image when I purchased "Forgotten God". I was in Ruth's bookstore in Quail Springs Mall shopping with some friends when I came upon this:


Who is being edified by this image? I confess that I am not familiar with this man's works (and they may very well be good). However, the portrayal of him on this book cover should make the practicing Christian shudder. There is no room for ego in the Christian heart. This brings me back to our lack of thinking. Chan quotes 1st Thessalonians 5:21-23 in his book and it made me sit up and pay attention:

"But examine everything carefully; hold fast to that which is good; abstain from every form of evil. Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ."

Our society largely lacks critical analysis with respect not only to our everyday lives, but also with respect to our spiritual beliefs. We cannot claim to be in the rank-and-file of Christendom with thinking about and applying the whole text of the Bible, not just those passages that are convenient. I myself am guilty of such, as are many others. This applies totally to the Holy Spirit. One cannot except a part of the Trinity and lead the full life of a Christian. This does not mean that it is easy. There are many stumbling blocks in the way. I personally have had such negative experience with people who fake the presence of the Holy Spirit that I abandoned attending church for some time. We cannot let such stumbling blocks ensnare us. Always ask, who does this edify? If the answer is not God, then the legitimacy is not there.

On Finding (and Keeping) the Kindred Spirits

It is 2:00 A.M. on a Thursday night. I don't have class tomorrow (thankfully), but there is no real reason why I should be up. I am awake largely because I have been thinking. Many college students, like myself, would be shutting down the bars about now. In recent days I've asked myself, why not do the same? Why not use that means to broaden my network of friends? You see, things change once you graduate from college. Friends that once were as thick as thieves move off, live their lives, and become pleasant memories. That, for me, is a tough pill to swallow. I suppose that it would be naive of me to think that anything else would happen, but I did regardless. Again, I am the begrudging slave to nostalgia.

Perhaps what has deprived me of sleep most is the sense that I have missed out on spectacular opportunities. I refer specifically to those opportunities to deepen and improve such bygone friendships. In looking back on my undergraduate years it is apparent that I had the blessing of being friends (sometimes only an acquaintance) with a host of truly exceptional individuals. It is an unforgivable shame that for many our friendship have withered and all but died. One must not allow such rare gifts to lay fallow in the field!

Now, having "conquered" my undergraduate goals I am in quite a different position. Freer, perhaps, but less socially capable due to my somewhat limited exposure to new social groups. All of my life I have been a proponent of quality over quantity---the Taurus, the ISTJ, the traditionalist. Yet now it seems that those quality relationships that I so gladly nurtured have been whisked away on a southernly wind. What is the thinking man to do?

I mentioned previously the consideration of taking a foray into the bar scene. I say that knowing well that such an affair would be a lost cause. My biases and my dislikes run far too deep for any real attempt at such. No, I will always dislike the drunkard, the crowded room, the coarse individual and the stench of cigarette smoke. No amount of nostalgia will ever change that.

The viable alternative is then the religious group. But, again, this poses some problems as well. While I have never felt truly unwelcomed by any Christian organization, the comfort level certainly varies. With any group (religious groups are no exception) there are always expectations to be met. Most of them are apparent, but many others are unspoken and bear the true weight of acceptance. Christians are for the most part a loving lot and one that is well-intentioned. I preface this next statement by saying that is does not apply to all such groups. They also can a be a cliquish, judging lot. I have participated in numerous such groups throughout my life and while some were indeed enjoyable and productive, many compromised the person for the sake of the Christian. What I mean by this is that one could not discern the true personality of the individuals in the group, rather, they were reflective of the group-think of the establishment.

In retrospect it appears that I have alienated both the social drinkers and the conservative Christians in this article. That certainly wasn't my intention. But the question still remains, what is the thinking man (or woman) to do? Are the days of the intellectual-social group all but gone from our society?

Having lived in a city of five years now I am well aware that my days of continual wilderness rambling have all but disappeared. There will be no more basking in the grandeur of the wilderness every day. Such a pleasantry makes solitude not only tolerable, but enjoyable. This is not the case of the city life. One may very well sit under the bows of a pine and hear the secrets of life pass o'er until the sun bids adieu, but the same person cannot do such in an apartment devoid of the beauty of nature.

Fundamentally, I feel that my problems boils down to two aspects of my personality: (1) a radically different perception of value than my peers and (2) an unwillingness to compromise on those things that I believe strongly about. Whether that makes me a philosopher or a fool I will not speculate, but it does put me in an unique situation.

One half-hour later, I still don't have the answers that I sought to find. Such answers never do come easily. Yet, the process of self-exploration through writing holds a great value to any person who observes life through the lens of self-reflection. Until next time,

Be true to your work, your word, and your friend.