On the morning of March 28, 2010, in Tallahassee, Florida, Conor McBride, 19, was in a prolonged fight with his girlfriend of one year. They were good kids, well-liked by friends and viewed as promising student leaders. But they had been fighting continuously for nearly 36 hours by the time morning rolled around, in person, over the phone, via text message. At first they fought about nothing, but with little sleep the hours dragged on -- emotions raged and threats were made. At one point Conor ran to his dad's bedroom and picked up his father's shotgun. He intended to scare her, but by that point had no idea what he was doing.
At 2:15 pm, Conor McBride walked into the Tallahassee Police Department, trembling. "You need to arrest me," he said, beginning to weep. "I just shot my girlfriend in the head."
In case you haven't heard, there is a lot of talk about guns in America today. It's tiresome and it's scary. But the country has a serious problem on it's hands. Like any society, America has its share of deeply troubled individuals who commit horrendous crimes with violent weapons. Unexpectedly. Tragically.
Of course there are conflicting solutions for this problem, including the call for more guns. In schools. In homes. In all arenas of civil society. Proponents here sound the rather noisy refrain, "Guns don't kill people, people kill people!"
Well, frankly I've had quite enough of that. The fact is, guns do kill people. They kill people much quicker than people kill people, at any rate. But more on that shortly. The question I have for the "people kill people" club is: who, exactly, are the people who kill people?
You see, we seem to be deluded by an odd dichotomy. There are bad people (you know, the ones who kill people) and then there are the rest of us. Them and us. We are us, and us is good. They are them, and them is bad. The thing is, ladies and gentlemen, we are all us. And, like it or not, we are all them.
We are all broken. We are all hurting. We are all fragile. We are all prone to mistakes. We are all prone to be rash. But by God's grace we can keep it together. So we trudge forward. And we slip up. And, sometimes, we snap.
Conor McBride was not a bad kid. He was not "them". He was, and is, us. And Conor snapped. But Conor snapped, tragically, within arms reach of his father's shotgun. And his ambitious, beautiful girlfriend lost her life in an instant.
By this point, we all know of Adam Lanza, the Newtown shooter. Adam Lanza had deep issues. And though we will never know how severe his issues were, we will always know that on December 14, 2012 Adam Lanza snapped. And we will henceforth always regret that Adam Lanza's mother had a room full of assault rifles. Guns she bought to use against "them." 27 people lost their lives that day at the end of legally owned firearms. 27 of us.
Today, gun sales in America have never been higher. People are stocking up to protect themselves from all sorts of bad people. You know, from "them." Consequently, America's homes are being filled with lethal weapons. And this breaks my heart.
Think of the young kids now, bullies and their victims, who will so easily sneak one of Mommy's pistols to school, just to scare the other kids. Think of the insecure and misunderstood teenage introverts, who withstand torrents of abuse at home and at school until one day they snap, and reach into Dad's well-stocked gun cabinet. Think of the man who loses his job and family, and in a moment of extreme humiliation and anguish shoots himself... with the gun bought for "them."
We think we will never be these people, and, Lord willing, we will neither be them or know them. But we must not deceive ourselves. The pressures of the world and the sin strong within make many people snap. With guns -- the guns at arm's reach in our homes -- these episodes are inevitably lethal.
Mere hours before Adam Lanza broke into Sandy Hook Elementary School, another isolated and broken young man on the other side of the world also snapped. In rural China, a 35-year old man attacked students arriving for class outside an elementary school. 20 people suffered minor injuries, and the man was immediately apprehended. The Chinese man was not so different from Adam Lanza. But guns are near impossible to obtain in China. This man's weapon was a small knife.
I hope that sensible gun legislation can be enacted in this country, as it has been all around the developed world. In the meantime let us thank God for our health, and for our safety, and for strength on our rocky paths. And let us humbly remember that we are the "them" that we fear, and only love and grace, not guns, can be the safety that we seek.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Monday, March 19, 2012
The Tragedy of KONY2012: The Viral and the Vitriol
You've most likely caught wind of this KONY2012 craze. Since this 30-minute video from the non-profit group Invisible Children was posted on YouTube two weeks ago, it has been viewed over 80 million times. In modern vernacular, this thing's gone viral.
The buzz about this video has been unbelievable, and truly unprecedented. The internet age has ushered in the most significant changes in all of human history. Never has so much been shared by so many, so quickly. Sites like YouTube have democratized the process of information sharing in the most glorious, and terrifying, of ways. But the site is primarily an arena for cheap thrills and wasting time, for videos of singing animals and dancing babies and intoxicated teenagers and dangerous stunts and music videos. And the modern human race, ever insatiable for distraction, eats this stuff up.
Enter Invisible Children. The company was founded a decade ago by Jason Russell, a young filmmaker who met some child soldiers in Uganda and decided to devote his life to setting them and their friends free. If you want to know more about them, look them up. But it's important to know that IC is primarily an awareness project, centered around Jason's vision. Make people aware of Joseph Kony (the rebel leader kidnapping the children) and Kony will be arrested. They've been traveling, lobbying, and posting videos for years to try and get the word out, and have drawn in millions of young people for the cause.
This year, IC went all out for a KONY2012 awareness campaign, centered around the video of the same name. Their goal was for 500,000 teenagers and young adults to see it. But, as I said, they got nearly a hundred million instead.
But this is the tragic part. The video is intensely personal. It tells Jason's story, shows him at home with his family, traveling Uganda, sharing his vision, his life passion, his dream for a better world. And the response to KONY2012, to Jason's dream, has been overwhelmingly critical. Every major news outlet, from the Guardian to the New York Times to CNN, has weighed in with their scrutiny. Activists from around the world have jumped on board too, offering some support, but mostly criticism. You see, the video paints a very simple picture of a very complex problem, and offers a very simple solution. It, in effect, tells young people that if they are sad about kids being soldiers, they can put up KONY2012 posters and tell their friends. Then, the U.S. army will sweep in and pummel Kony and his rebel friends. Justice will be served and Central Africa will be saved. Many argue that the campaign reeks of neocolonialism, a serving of Humanitarianism Light for entitled young people who want to change the world but don't care much for their lonely next door neighbor. And I don't totally disagree with that. There are major flaws.
But I do disagree, with my whole heart and soul, with the vitriol. Remember my comment of the glorious democratization of the internet age? Well along with it we have seen the ugliest aspects of humanity, the most unbelievable cruelty and utterly shameful conduct. It's awful. People have tweeted, blogged, facebooked, emailed, commented, and video replied the most hateful things. For every measured criticism from a respectable source, there are a thousand anonymous internet users bashing Jason and his video.
And now news has been released that Jason Russell, 32, was arrested two days ago for running naked through the streets of San Diego, pounding the walls and sidewalk, screaming incoherently in all directions, engaging in some horrifying lewd behavior. Celebrity gossip sites have jumped on board, posting videos of his antics, and a new round of horrible mockery has begun.
I feel terrible for him. Officials say that he was suffering from extreme exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition. IC released a statement saying he had taken all of the criticism very personally and had not slept in days. One day he was launching the most exciting movement of his life, the one that would finally set child soldiers free, the next day, he was the object of intense scorn, from the full power of the global media and anyone with an internet connection.
How could this happen? Jon Stewart has suggested that the criticism has come from the jealous media, who watched as Jason did in a week what they had been trying to do for a decade. True or not, there are some real ill-feelings involved.
Jason has created one of the most successful non-profit awareness machines in the world. He is a visionary, a strong leader, an inspiring speaker, a devoted husband and father. His episode was not the act of a deluded criminal. It was the act of a man utterly broken, utterly betrayed, utterly devastated, driven to his absolute wit's end by the harshness of unfiltered, instantaneous, global criticism.
Generally, I am an optimistic guy. But in moments like this, I start to feel kind of hopeless for humanity. Though I don't fully support IC's work, I truly cannot understand how people can be so cruel. Before we jump on board lambasting and ridiculing the poor guy any further, let's consider a few things.
First of all, the KONY2012 video is not a United Nations peacekeeping proposal. It was intended to excite high schoolers, not be scrutinized by The Guardian. It was supposed to be simple. It did not purport to be a comprehensive analysis of Central Africa conflict. So don't treat it like it did. IC openly acknowledges the video is supposed to be a simple introduction. If you're interested, by all means, look further and learn more.
Second, the video offers a simple solution, because the emphasis of Jason's company is immediacy. Awareness now. And if you don't like Jason's mission, then don't join it. If it is as ill-conceived as people say, then it will never get off the ground. The movement did not invite your opinion, unless you have something constructive to offer. Join if you like it, don't join if you don't. Simple.
Third, Jason Russell is not a self-absorbed celebrity, so the way he's been treated is appalling. I am horrified that this video of him running naked is attracting such attention. I will never watch it, and I hope you don't either. How dare we gloat in another person's pain? He is mentally and spiritually broken, and we caused it. How dare we delight in the misery of a good man and his family? For that matter, how can we delight in anyone's misery, be they a hero, a villain, or a Kardashian? But I digress...
Fourth, can't we respect his life, even if we don't respect the mission? Even if you hate his vision and think his video is stupid, he has done what most of us never will. He encountered real pain and real evil, and he poured his heart, soul, and mind into bringing hope and restoration. He is driven by a dream of seeing a better world, and he works towards it every day. So how dare we sit behind our computers, spewing spite through our anonymous fingertips at a man who is driven by the noblest of dreams?
Fifth, and last, let's just offer the guy and his family some respect. You don't have to give a penny to his organization, you can silently mock the video all you want, you can propose other ways to solve the problem, but let's just remember that we all deserve to be treated with basic dignity. If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say it, and definitely don't say it in a public forum where millions of people can see it too.
The art of silence is a practice quickly fading, or so it seems. Just because we can, doesn't always mean we should. Let's not let world-changing innovation bring more pain than healing.
- jmb
A mental health perspective on Jason's breakdown from The Atlantic
The buzz about this video has been unbelievable, and truly unprecedented. The internet age has ushered in the most significant changes in all of human history. Never has so much been shared by so many, so quickly. Sites like YouTube have democratized the process of information sharing in the most glorious, and terrifying, of ways. But the site is primarily an arena for cheap thrills and wasting time, for videos of singing animals and dancing babies and intoxicated teenagers and dangerous stunts and music videos. And the modern human race, ever insatiable for distraction, eats this stuff up.
Enter Invisible Children. The company was founded a decade ago by Jason Russell, a young filmmaker who met some child soldiers in Uganda and decided to devote his life to setting them and their friends free. If you want to know more about them, look them up. But it's important to know that IC is primarily an awareness project, centered around Jason's vision. Make people aware of Joseph Kony (the rebel leader kidnapping the children) and Kony will be arrested. They've been traveling, lobbying, and posting videos for years to try and get the word out, and have drawn in millions of young people for the cause.
This year, IC went all out for a KONY2012 awareness campaign, centered around the video of the same name. Their goal was for 500,000 teenagers and young adults to see it. But, as I said, they got nearly a hundred million instead.
But this is the tragic part. The video is intensely personal. It tells Jason's story, shows him at home with his family, traveling Uganda, sharing his vision, his life passion, his dream for a better world. And the response to KONY2012, to Jason's dream, has been overwhelmingly critical. Every major news outlet, from the Guardian to the New York Times to CNN, has weighed in with their scrutiny. Activists from around the world have jumped on board too, offering some support, but mostly criticism. You see, the video paints a very simple picture of a very complex problem, and offers a very simple solution. It, in effect, tells young people that if they are sad about kids being soldiers, they can put up KONY2012 posters and tell their friends. Then, the U.S. army will sweep in and pummel Kony and his rebel friends. Justice will be served and Central Africa will be saved. Many argue that the campaign reeks of neocolonialism, a serving of Humanitarianism Light for entitled young people who want to change the world but don't care much for their lonely next door neighbor. And I don't totally disagree with that. There are major flaws.
But I do disagree, with my whole heart and soul, with the vitriol. Remember my comment of the glorious democratization of the internet age? Well along with it we have seen the ugliest aspects of humanity, the most unbelievable cruelty and utterly shameful conduct. It's awful. People have tweeted, blogged, facebooked, emailed, commented, and video replied the most hateful things. For every measured criticism from a respectable source, there are a thousand anonymous internet users bashing Jason and his video.
And now news has been released that Jason Russell, 32, was arrested two days ago for running naked through the streets of San Diego, pounding the walls and sidewalk, screaming incoherently in all directions, engaging in some horrifying lewd behavior. Celebrity gossip sites have jumped on board, posting videos of his antics, and a new round of horrible mockery has begun.
I feel terrible for him. Officials say that he was suffering from extreme exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition. IC released a statement saying he had taken all of the criticism very personally and had not slept in days. One day he was launching the most exciting movement of his life, the one that would finally set child soldiers free, the next day, he was the object of intense scorn, from the full power of the global media and anyone with an internet connection.
How could this happen? Jon Stewart has suggested that the criticism has come from the jealous media, who watched as Jason did in a week what they had been trying to do for a decade. True or not, there are some real ill-feelings involved.
Jason has created one of the most successful non-profit awareness machines in the world. He is a visionary, a strong leader, an inspiring speaker, a devoted husband and father. His episode was not the act of a deluded criminal. It was the act of a man utterly broken, utterly betrayed, utterly devastated, driven to his absolute wit's end by the harshness of unfiltered, instantaneous, global criticism.
Generally, I am an optimistic guy. But in moments like this, I start to feel kind of hopeless for humanity. Though I don't fully support IC's work, I truly cannot understand how people can be so cruel. Before we jump on board lambasting and ridiculing the poor guy any further, let's consider a few things.
First of all, the KONY2012 video is not a United Nations peacekeeping proposal. It was intended to excite high schoolers, not be scrutinized by The Guardian. It was supposed to be simple. It did not purport to be a comprehensive analysis of Central Africa conflict. So don't treat it like it did. IC openly acknowledges the video is supposed to be a simple introduction. If you're interested, by all means, look further and learn more.
Second, the video offers a simple solution, because the emphasis of Jason's company is immediacy. Awareness now. And if you don't like Jason's mission, then don't join it. If it is as ill-conceived as people say, then it will never get off the ground. The movement did not invite your opinion, unless you have something constructive to offer. Join if you like it, don't join if you don't. Simple.
Third, Jason Russell is not a self-absorbed celebrity, so the way he's been treated is appalling. I am horrified that this video of him running naked is attracting such attention. I will never watch it, and I hope you don't either. How dare we gloat in another person's pain? He is mentally and spiritually broken, and we caused it. How dare we delight in the misery of a good man and his family? For that matter, how can we delight in anyone's misery, be they a hero, a villain, or a Kardashian? But I digress...
Fourth, can't we respect his life, even if we don't respect the mission? Even if you hate his vision and think his video is stupid, he has done what most of us never will. He encountered real pain and real evil, and he poured his heart, soul, and mind into bringing hope and restoration. He is driven by a dream of seeing a better world, and he works towards it every day. So how dare we sit behind our computers, spewing spite through our anonymous fingertips at a man who is driven by the noblest of dreams?
Fifth, and last, let's just offer the guy and his family some respect. You don't have to give a penny to his organization, you can silently mock the video all you want, you can propose other ways to solve the problem, but let's just remember that we all deserve to be treated with basic dignity. If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say it, and definitely don't say it in a public forum where millions of people can see it too.
The art of silence is a practice quickly fading, or so it seems. Just because we can, doesn't always mean we should. Let's not let world-changing innovation bring more pain than healing.
- jmb
A mental health perspective on Jason's breakdown from The Atlantic
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Me ... and Jesus
There's a song that plays quite often on Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) stations. I've heard it multiple times in recent weeks through the tinny ceiling speakers of Messiah's Student Union. And I think I've heard enough.
The song is called "Me and Jesus", and it's by Stellar Kart -- Christian music's pop-punk response to the enviable success of the secular Simple Plan. I apologize if you feel attached to this song in any way, but perhaps these thoughts are directed most pointedly to you.
"Me and Jesus", for me, encapsulates all that is errant in a well-meaning industry. The CCM industry was built upon a simple premise: write and release music for Christians to enjoy that glorifies God, not man. But I'm afraid the noble aims of this process have become a machine gravely mistaken, and refurbished with a new formula: take the most successful sounds of popular music, rewrite the lyrics, and repackage for Christian consumption.
I should preface by saying that I bear no personal grievance against the individuals that work so hard to oil this machine, for I believe their hearts are in the right place. But the machine runs on profits alone, and thus it has been allowed to produce some truly shameful songs...
"Me and Jesus" bears an undeniable similarity to, well, to about a thousand aching pop-punk choruses. Somewhere between the treacly consolation for those who have "hit rock bottom with nowhere left to turn" and the desperate supplication "don't give up, it's not the end" the song is virtually indistinguishable from a hundred down-and-out ballads of a similar caliber. Musically, it soars with all the originality of any bonified four-chord masterpiece. One can hardly help but weep as the singer whines his way through a litany of heart-wrenching cliches. Don't give up now. It's going to be alright. Open up your heart. After all we've been through. Love like there's no tomorrow.
And along the way, the drama is set. The picture has been painted, and it's emotional richness collides with the depth of the human condition like a housefly into the kitchen window. When it seems all hope is lost but for the paltry support of the dozen-strong cliches, and that poor despondent listener is certainly to succumb to that ... thing... she's going through, Stellar Kart pulls out the big guns:
Someone loves you even when you don't think so
Don't you know you got me and Jesus
By your side through the fight you will never be alone
On your own you got me and Jesus
Don't worry. You've got Me. And Jesus.
And suddenly, at the name of Me all pain is ceased, all death vanquished, all hope restored. Me rides in with love that saves the world. Me is here to lift your chin, to dry your eyes, to save you from yourself. Me will ... oh. Yeah. Right, and Jesus is here too.
Even now, the theological atrocity of this whole thing renders me nearly speechless. I would like very much to sit down with the aspiring young rock star who penned these words and inquire as to which took more time -- writing the lyrics for this song or spiking his hair for the music video?
I would hope he'd answer the latter, for if it's the former then we'd have to send this fellow back to Sunday School ASAP. But whether he wrote out of ignorance or idiocy is really not the issue. My bigger question is: how on earth did this song slip through the CCM machine, into the collections of Christian DJs, and onto the repeated 8-song playlist in the Union? To make things worse, the song was written over six years ago, making it something of a ... Christian classic.
Did no one stop along the way and ask, Hey, now wait a second. Since when did the consolation of man surpass, or even equal, the amazing grace of the Saviour? When did the sacrificial love of Christ take a backseat to the embrace of some Christian popstar? Why is Jesus not enough?!?
Perhaps such objections were raised, but quickly overwhelmed by the ecstatic support of CCM executives. Theology, Shmeology! This'll be a hit!
I don't know what else they could have said. For anyone who thinks just for two seconds about these words will notice there is something terribly amiss here. But maybe that's just the sorry state we're in. If so, then, Lord, we need to set our sights on you again. We need you to be more to us than profits. We need to show our love with more than pop-song imitations littered with horrendous theology. We need you to remind us that you, through all of eternity, will always be enough.
God bless us, everyone!
jmb
The song is called "Me and Jesus", and it's by Stellar Kart -- Christian music's pop-punk response to the enviable success of the secular Simple Plan. I apologize if you feel attached to this song in any way, but perhaps these thoughts are directed most pointedly to you.
"Me and Jesus", for me, encapsulates all that is errant in a well-meaning industry. The CCM industry was built upon a simple premise: write and release music for Christians to enjoy that glorifies God, not man. But I'm afraid the noble aims of this process have become a machine gravely mistaken, and refurbished with a new formula: take the most successful sounds of popular music, rewrite the lyrics, and repackage for Christian consumption.
I should preface by saying that I bear no personal grievance against the individuals that work so hard to oil this machine, for I believe their hearts are in the right place. But the machine runs on profits alone, and thus it has been allowed to produce some truly shameful songs...
"Me and Jesus" bears an undeniable similarity to, well, to about a thousand aching pop-punk choruses. Somewhere between the treacly consolation for those who have "hit rock bottom with nowhere left to turn" and the desperate supplication "don't give up, it's not the end" the song is virtually indistinguishable from a hundred down-and-out ballads of a similar caliber. Musically, it soars with all the originality of any bonified four-chord masterpiece. One can hardly help but weep as the singer whines his way through a litany of heart-wrenching cliches. Don't give up now. It's going to be alright. Open up your heart. After all we've been through. Love like there's no tomorrow.
And along the way, the drama is set. The picture has been painted, and it's emotional richness collides with the depth of the human condition like a housefly into the kitchen window. When it seems all hope is lost but for the paltry support of the dozen-strong cliches, and that poor despondent listener is certainly to succumb to that ... thing... she's going through, Stellar Kart pulls out the big guns:
Someone loves you even when you don't think so
Don't you know you got me and Jesus
By your side through the fight you will never be alone
On your own you got me and Jesus
Don't worry. You've got Me. And Jesus.
And suddenly, at the name of Me all pain is ceased, all death vanquished, all hope restored. Me rides in with love that saves the world. Me is here to lift your chin, to dry your eyes, to save you from yourself. Me will ... oh. Yeah. Right, and Jesus is here too.
Even now, the theological atrocity of this whole thing renders me nearly speechless. I would like very much to sit down with the aspiring young rock star who penned these words and inquire as to which took more time -- writing the lyrics for this song or spiking his hair for the music video?
I would hope he'd answer the latter, for if it's the former then we'd have to send this fellow back to Sunday School ASAP. But whether he wrote out of ignorance or idiocy is really not the issue. My bigger question is: how on earth did this song slip through the CCM machine, into the collections of Christian DJs, and onto the repeated 8-song playlist in the Union? To make things worse, the song was written over six years ago, making it something of a ... Christian classic.
Did no one stop along the way and ask, Hey, now wait a second. Since when did the consolation of man surpass, or even equal, the amazing grace of the Saviour? When did the sacrificial love of Christ take a backseat to the embrace of some Christian popstar? Why is Jesus not enough?!?
Perhaps such objections were raised, but quickly overwhelmed by the ecstatic support of CCM executives. Theology, Shmeology! This'll be a hit!
I don't know what else they could have said. For anyone who thinks just for two seconds about these words will notice there is something terribly amiss here. But maybe that's just the sorry state we're in. If so, then, Lord, we need to set our sights on you again. We need you to be more to us than profits. We need to show our love with more than pop-song imitations littered with horrendous theology. We need you to remind us that you, through all of eternity, will always be enough.
God bless us, everyone!
jmb
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Boggling Blogging Blogger
The ironic thing about time is the harder you look for it, the harder it is to find.
I've long believed that there is no such thing as a "lack of time." The time we've been given is all we'll ever need. What we lack is not time, but the discipline to use it as we want to. So, hypothetically speaking, when a blogger of significantly insignificant cyber-significance continually neglects his little weblog he should not tell his familial following that he just "doesn't have time to blog." He may be better telling them straight, "I just don't make time to blog."
Deeeeep.
So I'm not apologizing for this undoubtedly boggling lack of blogging. At this point in my life, I have many priorities. The same amount of time, of course, but many important things to wedge into it. I'm still a student, a friend, a boyfriend, a brother and a son, still a Resident Assistant for 44 charming freshman guys, still a chapel leader and an employee, and still trying my best to be a devoted and faithful follower of Christ through it all. To top it all off, I'm also still occupied by the full-time application process for graduate school.
It's a sorry thing that public reflections and thoughtful recapitulations on the progression of my life must be sacrificed along the way, but I'm not sorry for a second for all the opportunities I've had this year, for all I've learned, for all I've achieved, for all I've aspired to, and for how I've been humbled and grown.
Regarding all aforementioned commitments, things continue to race along as one might expect them to. The task of summarizing even the highlights of such times is rather daunting at this moment, so if you really want to know the details, let's talk in person.
Suffice it to say, that I'm learning a lot these days. I'm being challenged and I'm being humbled, and it's no walk in the park. But I'm grateful for every opportunity I've had and am having. And I'm especially thankful lately for the blessing it is to dream about my future, and to chase those dreams. To have options and to be able to apply to 11 schools in 11 different cities with excitement overwhelming my apprehension.
But I'm most thankful for the hope I have in the God who goes with me into all of these things. The God who goes with me now. The God who is faithful, even in my unfaithfulness. The God who is strong, strong enough for all my weakness.
So in the midst of all of this, I often echo the words of David after that rather regrettable Bathsheba incident, and I'd like to share them with you now. [For the record, I cannot relate to the whole kill-a-man-take-his-wife thing, but to the notion that a hundred compelling desires can blot out the only one that really matters, I do resonate.]
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Amen, King David, sir ... Amen.
Over and out.
jmb
Restore
I've long believed that there is no such thing as a "lack of time." The time we've been given is all we'll ever need. What we lack is not time, but the discipline to use it as we want to. So, hypothetically speaking, when a blogger of significantly insignificant cyber-significance continually neglects his little weblog he should not tell his familial following that he just "doesn't have time to blog." He may be better telling them straight, "I just don't make time to blog."
Deeeeep.
So I'm not apologizing for this undoubtedly boggling lack of blogging. At this point in my life, I have many priorities. The same amount of time, of course, but many important things to wedge into it. I'm still a student, a friend, a boyfriend, a brother and a son, still a Resident Assistant for 44 charming freshman guys, still a chapel leader and an employee, and still trying my best to be a devoted and faithful follower of Christ through it all. To top it all off, I'm also still occupied by the full-time application process for graduate school.
It's a sorry thing that public reflections and thoughtful recapitulations on the progression of my life must be sacrificed along the way, but I'm not sorry for a second for all the opportunities I've had this year, for all I've learned, for all I've achieved, for all I've aspired to, and for how I've been humbled and grown.
Regarding all aforementioned commitments, things continue to race along as one might expect them to. The task of summarizing even the highlights of such times is rather daunting at this moment, so if you really want to know the details, let's talk in person.
Suffice it to say, that I'm learning a lot these days. I'm being challenged and I'm being humbled, and it's no walk in the park. But I'm grateful for every opportunity I've had and am having. And I'm especially thankful lately for the blessing it is to dream about my future, and to chase those dreams. To have options and to be able to apply to 11 schools in 11 different cities with excitement overwhelming my apprehension.
But I'm most thankful for the hope I have in the God who goes with me into all of these things. The God who goes with me now. The God who is faithful, even in my unfaithfulness. The God who is strong, strong enough for all my weakness.
So in the midst of all of this, I often echo the words of David after that rather regrettable Bathsheba incident, and I'd like to share them with you now. [For the record, I cannot relate to the whole kill-a-man-take-his-wife thing, but to the notion that a hundred compelling desires can blot out the only one that really matters, I do resonate.]
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Amen, King David, sir ... Amen.
Over and out.
jmb
Restore
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Whirlywind
Dear world,
Here we are again. Another whirlwind series of months since my last post, spanning 3 countries, half a dozen cities, seven days of cruising, five weeks of work, seven weeks of camp, one crucial exam, one family reunion with 37 boisterous Bodens, four visits with one special lady, 10 days of RA training, 44 freshmen guys, and a partridge in a pear tree. It's been quite a ride. No joke.
But through all of that -- the silly, the thrilling, the sad, and even the little bit of bad -- I find myself here again on another hazy Pennsylvania morning with likely much to do, but with little incentive to do any of it. So I greet you, my long-neglected but ever-loyal cyber chums, and I thank you for your interest in this little life of mine.
Each number in that litany of statistics above could be expanded upon greatly. But to boil it all down, it was a fantastic summer, but it sure was busy. I was the Program Director at camp again, my second year in the position and sixth year working up there. I also had to be back on campus for RA training on August 17th. So my summer, essentially, was the month of June, in which time I turned 21, worked full time for 4 weeks, studied every night for the GRE, wrote the GRE, and got camp program prepared.
Then there was camp, which went swimmingly. It was not without its challenges, as much to me personally as to the camp as a whole, but in unexpected ways, as I suppose it always is, we saw God work in and through his people. Interestingly, at camp we (the counselors) talk often of sharing Christ with the campers, of enlightening them through word and deed to the love of God in their lives. And yet time and time again, it is the counselors who come away from this ministry having been touched themselves so personally and powerfully by the hand of God, and who come, through serving and living by faith, to know God more deeply in their own lives.
So that is that. I don't have much time these days for looking behind, though, for it is the future that presently holds my attention. I'm in the midst of grad school applications, which seem quite profoundly to start as grad school aspirations. I'm interested in the field of school psychology, and to get there I'm looking at doctoral programs. Big stuff. But somewhere between looking at programs and studying in programs is a grueling application process seemingly contrived to beat bright-eyed applicants to their knees in submission before silent committees of high-brow academics who scrutinize your paper-sized life and survey the grades that have now become the ultimate manifestation of your God-given potential.
Thankfully, the God who gave me potential is the God in control. Of everything. What blessed assurance indeed.
So if you are a praying person, I'd appreciate prayers to that end. And if you are not a praying person, why not give it a whirl? At worst, you'd just be talking to yourself, but at best you'd be entering into time with the God above all things, the Creator bringing love and restoration and hope to a world that would be lost without it. It's worth a shot.
Have a holly jolly Tuesday, everybody!
jmb
Here we are again. Another whirlwind series of months since my last post, spanning 3 countries, half a dozen cities, seven days of cruising, five weeks of work, seven weeks of camp, one crucial exam, one family reunion with 37 boisterous Bodens, four visits with one special lady, 10 days of RA training, 44 freshmen guys, and a partridge in a pear tree. It's been quite a ride. No joke.
But through all of that -- the silly, the thrilling, the sad, and even the little bit of bad -- I find myself here again on another hazy Pennsylvania morning with likely much to do, but with little incentive to do any of it. So I greet you, my long-neglected but ever-loyal cyber chums, and I thank you for your interest in this little life of mine.
Each number in that litany of statistics above could be expanded upon greatly. But to boil it all down, it was a fantastic summer, but it sure was busy. I was the Program Director at camp again, my second year in the position and sixth year working up there. I also had to be back on campus for RA training on August 17th. So my summer, essentially, was the month of June, in which time I turned 21, worked full time for 4 weeks, studied every night for the GRE, wrote the GRE, and got camp program prepared.
Then there was camp, which went swimmingly. It was not without its challenges, as much to me personally as to the camp as a whole, but in unexpected ways, as I suppose it always is, we saw God work in and through his people. Interestingly, at camp we (the counselors) talk often of sharing Christ with the campers, of enlightening them through word and deed to the love of God in their lives. And yet time and time again, it is the counselors who come away from this ministry having been touched themselves so personally and powerfully by the hand of God, and who come, through serving and living by faith, to know God more deeply in their own lives.
So that is that. I don't have much time these days for looking behind, though, for it is the future that presently holds my attention. I'm in the midst of grad school applications, which seem quite profoundly to start as grad school aspirations. I'm interested in the field of school psychology, and to get there I'm looking at doctoral programs. Big stuff. But somewhere between looking at programs and studying in programs is a grueling application process seemingly contrived to beat bright-eyed applicants to their knees in submission before silent committees of high-brow academics who scrutinize your paper-sized life and survey the grades that have now become the ultimate manifestation of your God-given potential.
Thankfully, the God who gave me potential is the God in control. Of everything. What blessed assurance indeed.
So if you are a praying person, I'd appreciate prayers to that end. And if you are not a praying person, why not give it a whirl? At worst, you'd just be talking to yourself, but at best you'd be entering into time with the God above all things, the Creator bringing love and restoration and hope to a world that would be lost without it. It's worth a shot.
Have a holly jolly Tuesday, everybody!
jmb
Friday, April 29, 2011
Viskas.
Viskas. This word means, "That's it" in Lithuanian. As I sit here studying for my final final tomorrow morning, I really feel like I am approaching Viskas. And it's kind of sad.
More reflections are sure to come, but last week I finished a final paper for my Cross Cultural class and I'll share that for now instead. If you are interested in some of my general impressions of the experience, prašom skaityti (please read [I need to use as much Lithuanian as possible now. I likely won't ever get to use it again.]).
Thinal Foughts on Life in Lithuania
Speaking of Lithuanian, I had a simple, but remarkably long, conversation with a lady in Senamiestas (Old Town) today. It was glorious. I hope you are as proud of me as I am of me.
But back to the sad bit. There are things that have pulled me so strongly back home throughout this whole semester (friends, family, and a certain lovely lady) that continue to draw me even more intensely as the reunions approach. Yet simultaneously there is so much about this place that holds me here. As the sun shines brilliantly and the gray turns to green all over the country ["pavasaris" = spring], I feel sometimes as if I am seeing this place for the first time. But I'm not. It's the same place it has always been. It just took a little springtime sunlight (and four months of challenge) to illuminate my love for it.
But the blogoglobe is no place for such sappy sentimentality. Except to express, for all who care to know it, the impression this country, this part of the world, these people, this language, these friends, have made on me. Indelible impressions indeed.
Gerai draugiai. Viskas dabar. (Okay, my friends. That's all for now)
jmb
More reflections are sure to come, but last week I finished a final paper for my Cross Cultural class and I'll share that for now instead. If you are interested in some of my general impressions of the experience, prašom skaityti (please read [I need to use as much Lithuanian as possible now. I likely won't ever get to use it again.]).
Thinal Foughts on Life in Lithuania
Speaking of Lithuanian, I had a simple, but remarkably long, conversation with a lady in Senamiestas (Old Town) today. It was glorious. I hope you are as proud of me as I am of me.
But back to the sad bit. There are things that have pulled me so strongly back home throughout this whole semester (friends, family, and a certain lovely lady) that continue to draw me even more intensely as the reunions approach. Yet simultaneously there is so much about this place that holds me here. As the sun shines brilliantly and the gray turns to green all over the country ["pavasaris" = spring], I feel sometimes as if I am seeing this place for the first time. But I'm not. It's the same place it has always been. It just took a little springtime sunlight (and four months of challenge) to illuminate my love for it.
But the blogoglobe is no place for such sappy sentimentality. Except to express, for all who care to know it, the impression this country, this part of the world, these people, this language, these friends, have made on me. Indelible impressions indeed.
Gerai draugiai. Viskas dabar. (Okay, my friends. That's all for now)
jmb
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Adventures of Joshelberry Funn
Dear internet (and people who use it),
The birds are chirping, the ice is finished melting, the sun is (sorta) shining, and life at LCC plows on full speed to the end. Though I feel great pressure to, I will not offer any obligatory apologies for my prolonged absence from this page. Nope. I will have no regrets, I tell you. For, you see, when a man is not on the internet piddling away his time and tap-tap-tapping his memories onto his 14.1" screen, I suppose he is instead spending his time living life to the full, or at least trying his best to.
In my case, I can assure you that this is the truth. Life has been a whirlwind of smaller whirlwinds, through it all -- the good, the bad, the wonderful, and even the little bit of boring. Yes, I said boring. But the great thing about being bored on the other side of the world is that you must only remind yourself that you are, in fact, on the other side of the world and such moments cease to be so dull.
Deep thought #1: Aren't we always on the other side of the world?
But I have not had much time for being bored. So let me highlight a few things that have happened lately. In my last post, I mentioned a quiz show game night thing. We lost. But life goes on. And it went on, in fact, and took me to the Parade of Stars, 2011. Parade of Stars is LCC's big cultural event, where all the countries here put on a performance or play of some sort and compete through various stages to win the prize. Being the multinational Canuck that I am afforded me the honor (sans "u") of joining Team America, whose clearly quite perceptive members promptly assigned me the role of Superman.
Long story short, I danced around in borrowed blue tights and red shorts, pretending to explore the Land of Liberty and all the while extolling its great virtues. We did quite well, if I do say so myself, but we ultimately ceded our prize to Team Latvia who fairly won the title but crushed our American imperialistic spirits. Ah well. Life goes on.
And it took me forward through many busy days and memorable times with new friends, challenging discussions and eye-opening experiences.
Deep thought #2: Every experience can be eye-opening. You just have to keep them open the whole time.
Then this past week, my roommate and good friend Anton and I took a trip to Copenhagen. Ohh boy. Where to begin? Well, being the fiscal fellows that we are, we decided to make this trip as cheap as humanly possible, never mind the fact that our destination was one of the most expensive cities in the world. So for us that meant pinching pennies on everything we could. On things like transportation and shelter, for example. You know.. dispensable things like that. We planned on CouchSurfing while in the city, which for those of you unaware is a network of people around the world who post available couches for travelers to come sleep on for free, and in turn get to travel themselves. We found a place to stay just outside the city, and it was great! Our hosts were very pleasant, mild-mannered, thoughtful folk who baked us cookies and gave us full access to their little flat for no fee other than our polite presence and storytelling. (There are good people in the world.)
The real adventure, though, was traveling to and from. Also, we reasoned why spend money on a bus when you could, you know, hitchhike or something!? We flew into Gothenburg, Sweden, and made the trek 200 kilometers down to Copenhagen within a day. On the way down, it more or less proceeded without a hitch. You meet fascinating people when you just stick your thumb out on the side of the road, as it turns out. We got lifts from an Arab couple, a couple African dudes, some Swedish engineers, and a chap from Kosovo. Fascinating people, all of them.
We spent a few delightful days in the city, and then began our trek back up to Gothenburg. At first, things were fine. We were a little short on money for the train out of the city, but the ticket-checker was so excited that I was Canadian, that he offered us a few helpful pointers and proceeded to chat hockey stats with me until we made it. I love Danish people.
So then we got a lift from an airport technician in a rad sports car into Sweden. From there we camped out and enjoyed a roadside picnic until a nice Swedish couple picked us up and took us 50 kilometers north, but not before stopping in on a few errands on the way while we dutifully smiled in the backseat. We slowly realized Swedish people are much less friendly to hitchhikers on Saturdays, as our next two rides took us only a matter of kilometers further.
Suddenly it was evening and we were too far from Gothenburg to make our night bus to the airport. Nevertheless, our only option was to wait by the roadside until something happened. Well, something happened, but not until after the sun had set. You see, it is very dangerous to be on the side of the road at night time, so when we realized we were stuck there with no flashlight and no hope for a ride, we decided to walk the 7 miles into the nearest town to find a train. What ensued were some of the most harrowing minutes of my life. As we skirted down a Swedish highway and lightning-quick late night traffic skirted by us. Then to our simultaneous great horror and relief, a cop car screeched to a halt in front of us with lights and sirens wailing. I am not sure which is more illegal -- hitchhiking or being on the side of the road at night, but it quickly became apparent that neither really mattered. In a staggering display of the true Police spirit, they both served and protected us. A firm lecture on the dangers of our endeavours was all we had to pay for a free lift to the train station... and a conversation that quickly turned to "Oh! No way! I have family in Canada! blah.. blah..blah"
So that is that. And oh yeah. Copenhagen is a beautiful place.
Well, my friends. If all these travel stories are making your head spin then I regret to tell you that I am about to leave for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia with the Study Abroad program here. Well, actually I do not regret anything. No regrets, remember? Right on.
Well, thanks for your time. Remember: God loves you, and so do I!
jmb
The birds are chirping, the ice is finished melting, the sun is (sorta) shining, and life at LCC plows on full speed to the end. Though I feel great pressure to, I will not offer any obligatory apologies for my prolonged absence from this page. Nope. I will have no regrets, I tell you. For, you see, when a man is not on the internet piddling away his time and tap-tap-tapping his memories onto his 14.1" screen, I suppose he is instead spending his time living life to the full, or at least trying his best to.
In my case, I can assure you that this is the truth. Life has been a whirlwind of smaller whirlwinds, through it all -- the good, the bad, the wonderful, and even the little bit of boring. Yes, I said boring. But the great thing about being bored on the other side of the world is that you must only remind yourself that you are, in fact, on the other side of the world and such moments cease to be so dull.
Deep thought #1: Aren't we always on the other side of the world?
But I have not had much time for being bored. So let me highlight a few things that have happened lately. In my last post, I mentioned a quiz show game night thing. We lost. But life goes on. And it went on, in fact, and took me to the Parade of Stars, 2011. Parade of Stars is LCC's big cultural event, where all the countries here put on a performance or play of some sort and compete through various stages to win the prize. Being the multinational Canuck that I am afforded me the honor (sans "u") of joining Team America, whose clearly quite perceptive members promptly assigned me the role of Superman.
Long story short, I danced around in borrowed blue tights and red shorts, pretending to explore the Land of Liberty and all the while extolling its great virtues. We did quite well, if I do say so myself, but we ultimately ceded our prize to Team Latvia who fairly won the title but crushed our American imperialistic spirits. Ah well. Life goes on.
And it took me forward through many busy days and memorable times with new friends, challenging discussions and eye-opening experiences.
Deep thought #2: Every experience can be eye-opening. You just have to keep them open the whole time.
Then this past week, my roommate and good friend Anton and I took a trip to Copenhagen. Ohh boy. Where to begin? Well, being the fiscal fellows that we are, we decided to make this trip as cheap as humanly possible, never mind the fact that our destination was one of the most expensive cities in the world. So for us that meant pinching pennies on everything we could. On things like transportation and shelter, for example. You know.. dispensable things like that. We planned on CouchSurfing while in the city, which for those of you unaware is a network of people around the world who post available couches for travelers to come sleep on for free, and in turn get to travel themselves. We found a place to stay just outside the city, and it was great! Our hosts were very pleasant, mild-mannered, thoughtful folk who baked us cookies and gave us full access to their little flat for no fee other than our polite presence and storytelling. (There are good people in the world.)
The real adventure, though, was traveling to and from. Also, we reasoned why spend money on a bus when you could, you know, hitchhike or something!? We flew into Gothenburg, Sweden, and made the trek 200 kilometers down to Copenhagen within a day. On the way down, it more or less proceeded without a hitch. You meet fascinating people when you just stick your thumb out on the side of the road, as it turns out. We got lifts from an Arab couple, a couple African dudes, some Swedish engineers, and a chap from Kosovo. Fascinating people, all of them.
We spent a few delightful days in the city, and then began our trek back up to Gothenburg. At first, things were fine. We were a little short on money for the train out of the city, but the ticket-checker was so excited that I was Canadian, that he offered us a few helpful pointers and proceeded to chat hockey stats with me until we made it. I love Danish people.
So then we got a lift from an airport technician in a rad sports car into Sweden. From there we camped out and enjoyed a roadside picnic until a nice Swedish couple picked us up and took us 50 kilometers north, but not before stopping in on a few errands on the way while we dutifully smiled in the backseat. We slowly realized Swedish people are much less friendly to hitchhikers on Saturdays, as our next two rides took us only a matter of kilometers further.
Suddenly it was evening and we were too far from Gothenburg to make our night bus to the airport. Nevertheless, our only option was to wait by the roadside until something happened. Well, something happened, but not until after the sun had set. You see, it is very dangerous to be on the side of the road at night time, so when we realized we were stuck there with no flashlight and no hope for a ride, we decided to walk the 7 miles into the nearest town to find a train. What ensued were some of the most harrowing minutes of my life. As we skirted down a Swedish highway and lightning-quick late night traffic skirted by us. Then to our simultaneous great horror and relief, a cop car screeched to a halt in front of us with lights and sirens wailing. I am not sure which is more illegal -- hitchhiking or being on the side of the road at night, but it quickly became apparent that neither really mattered. In a staggering display of the true Police spirit, they both served and protected us. A firm lecture on the dangers of our endeavours was all we had to pay for a free lift to the train station... and a conversation that quickly turned to "Oh! No way! I have family in Canada! blah.. blah..blah"
So that is that. And oh yeah. Copenhagen is a beautiful place.
Well, my friends. If all these travel stories are making your head spin then I regret to tell you that I am about to leave for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia with the Study Abroad program here. Well, actually I do not regret anything. No regrets, remember? Right on.
Well, thanks for your time. Remember: God loves you, and so do I!
jmb
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Russia-Returned
Dear World of the Blog,
Today is a Thursday. Perhaps one of the most eventful Thursdays of my time in Lithuania, which makes this 60 minute lull in activity seem remarkably empty. Which qualifies as the perfect time for a brief post on this good old thought repository.
On Sunday we all returned safely from a crazy 8-day blitz through Russia's two biggest cities. It was, as I expected, a wild ride of a trip, full of beauty and thrills and items of staggering historical significance. My admittedly narrow perception of Russia as the cold, ugly, and rather chauvinistic bully of the northern European neighborhood was challenged and changed on every level. What I witnessed is certainly a proud and patriotic nation, but the culture, history, and legacy of the land is so deserving of that pride. Our Kremlin tour guide asserted (however provocatively) that in her experience, Russians and Americans are one and the same. Beneath all the politics and tensions and ideological disputes, the Russian spirit and the American spirit are fundamentally the same. And, as a fortunate third-party observer, I see what she means. Russians have a remarkably rich history, full of great names and heroes and victories and tragedies, of revolutionaries that liberated them and of regimes that have crumbled, of leaders that oppressed them and ideas that divided them. And through it all they've emerged with a vindictive sense of national pride. A manifest destiny of sorts, not so different from America's, as it turns out.
For those of you curious about the intricacies of daily life here, allow me to walk you through my exceptionally eventful day today, so you can get an idea of the kind of things that go on around here. This morning I joined a group of 10 other Study Abroad students for a brainstorming session with LCC International University's Study Abroad office. We were trying to come up with fresh ideas for LCC's promotional campaign for next year. For new merchandise, we came up with some great ideas, if I do say so myself -- who wouldn't want an LCC pet rock, or an LCC removable tattoo, or an LCC toothbrush?
Then it was off to practicum at the local Specialioji Mokykla (Special School). Everyday is something a little different, but today I spent a good hour playing Snakes and Ladders with my 14-year old pal Augustas. Back to school, where I made some gourmet grilled cheese and then headed to Theories of Personality class. We discussed more humanistic theology, a la Carl Rogers. [This marks the third time this academic year I've studied a unit on Carl Rogers. (I'm generally quite fond of the man, thankfully.)]
Then I had a meeting with my practicum advisor, where we went over logistics and all that. Once that was done, I headed back to an invitation-only reception in the first-floor lobby for a foreign dignitary who was visiting LCC. No big deal. Well, actually it wasn't really a big deal. There is a new Canadian Ambassador in Lithuania, you see, and since LCC is the only international university in the area, he decided to visit. An email was sent out to the community Canucks, and we all convened (8 of us) for coffee and pastries. I was the only one under 30, but it turns out I can schmooze with the dignitaries and small talk politics like the best of them. Naturally, the Canadian Ambassador was a real nice guy, and this brief meeting was equally pleasant.
At this meeting, I also received some unexpected life affirmation from LCC's interim president (who also happens to be Canadian). To put it simply, she declared that based on her perception of my character I would be a perfect candidate to someday travel Eastern Europe recruiting for LCC. So now we'll see about that, I suppose.
I conclude this post now, so I can run off to a game-show-trivia-night-kind-of-thing. It's a formal team event, so I'm off to a battle of the brains. A pizza dinner is on the line, so this is no joke.
Gotta jet. Love and peace.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
jmb
Today is a Thursday. Perhaps one of the most eventful Thursdays of my time in Lithuania, which makes this 60 minute lull in activity seem remarkably empty. Which qualifies as the perfect time for a brief post on this good old thought repository.
On Sunday we all returned safely from a crazy 8-day blitz through Russia's two biggest cities. It was, as I expected, a wild ride of a trip, full of beauty and thrills and items of staggering historical significance. My admittedly narrow perception of Russia as the cold, ugly, and rather chauvinistic bully of the northern European neighborhood was challenged and changed on every level. What I witnessed is certainly a proud and patriotic nation, but the culture, history, and legacy of the land is so deserving of that pride. Our Kremlin tour guide asserted (however provocatively) that in her experience, Russians and Americans are one and the same. Beneath all the politics and tensions and ideological disputes, the Russian spirit and the American spirit are fundamentally the same. And, as a fortunate third-party observer, I see what she means. Russians have a remarkably rich history, full of great names and heroes and victories and tragedies, of revolutionaries that liberated them and of regimes that have crumbled, of leaders that oppressed them and ideas that divided them. And through it all they've emerged with a vindictive sense of national pride. A manifest destiny of sorts, not so different from America's, as it turns out.
For those of you curious about the intricacies of daily life here, allow me to walk you through my exceptionally eventful day today, so you can get an idea of the kind of things that go on around here. This morning I joined a group of 10 other Study Abroad students for a brainstorming session with LCC International University's Study Abroad office. We were trying to come up with fresh ideas for LCC's promotional campaign for next year. For new merchandise, we came up with some great ideas, if I do say so myself -- who wouldn't want an LCC pet rock, or an LCC removable tattoo, or an LCC toothbrush?
Then it was off to practicum at the local Specialioji Mokykla (Special School). Everyday is something a little different, but today I spent a good hour playing Snakes and Ladders with my 14-year old pal Augustas. Back to school, where I made some gourmet grilled cheese and then headed to Theories of Personality class. We discussed more humanistic theology, a la Carl Rogers. [This marks the third time this academic year I've studied a unit on Carl Rogers. (I'm generally quite fond of the man, thankfully.)]
Then I had a meeting with my practicum advisor, where we went over logistics and all that. Once that was done, I headed back to an invitation-only reception in the first-floor lobby for a foreign dignitary who was visiting LCC. No big deal. Well, actually it wasn't really a big deal. There is a new Canadian Ambassador in Lithuania, you see, and since LCC is the only international university in the area, he decided to visit. An email was sent out to the community Canucks, and we all convened (8 of us) for coffee and pastries. I was the only one under 30, but it turns out I can schmooze with the dignitaries and small talk politics like the best of them. Naturally, the Canadian Ambassador was a real nice guy, and this brief meeting was equally pleasant.
At this meeting, I also received some unexpected life affirmation from LCC's interim president (who also happens to be Canadian). To put it simply, she declared that based on her perception of my character I would be a perfect candidate to someday travel Eastern Europe recruiting for LCC. So now we'll see about that, I suppose.
I conclude this post now, so I can run off to a game-show-trivia-night-kind-of-thing. It's a formal team event, so I'm off to a battle of the brains. A pizza dinner is on the line, so this is no joke.
Gotta jet. Love and peace.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
jmb
Friday, March 4, 2011
Russia-bound
Hey people,
Quick update:
The adventures continue, and now grow in scale. I'm leaving in the morning for an 8-day trip into Russia. A 20 hour bus/train ride will take us into Moscow for 3 days, which will be followed by 4 days in Saint Petersburg. Needless to say, I am quite excited. This trip is a part of the Study Abroad program here, so it is completely arranged and organized for us by them (though still funded by us). I imagine I have a crazy week ahead, so I should get some sleep.
Thanks for reading this and thanks, as always, for your thoughts and prayers. You are in mine. Unless I don't know you. In which case let me know if you care for my thoughts or my prayers and I will happily oblige.
See you on the other side!
jmb
Quick update:
The adventures continue, and now grow in scale. I'm leaving in the morning for an 8-day trip into Russia. A 20 hour bus/train ride will take us into Moscow for 3 days, which will be followed by 4 days in Saint Petersburg. Needless to say, I am quite excited. This trip is a part of the Study Abroad program here, so it is completely arranged and organized for us by them (though still funded by us). I imagine I have a crazy week ahead, so I should get some sleep.
Thanks for reading this and thanks, as always, for your thoughts and prayers. You are in mine. Unless I don't know you. In which case let me know if you care for my thoughts or my prayers and I will happily oblige.
See you on the other side!
jmb
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Confessions
Laba diena, world!
It is sunny today. A delightful thing in any part of the world, no doubt, but it is especially so here, where the sun is seldom seen during remarkably gray winter months. But the sun shines brilliantly, and it has for almost a week straight. Clearly God's favour shines on Klaipeda lately.
I mentioned last time an upcoming trip to Stockholm. Well, said trip came quickly and went wonderfully. I was absolutely enthralled by the 14-island city, by it's staggeringly beautiful and balanced blend of ancient history and the ultra modern. Not that I've been that many places, but it really was unlike any place I'd ever been. Some notable highlights: wandering through the medieval streets and palace grounds of the old town, cheering for Sweden at Europe's largest hockey arena in a friendly Sweden-Russia game, shopping in the city's sprawling (and remarkably trendy) shopping district (which is almost a whole island to itself), sipping hot drinks at coffeeshops that put every Starbucks to shame, and on and on. Even the hours of bus and plane travel on either end of the trip was a great way to see more of this part of the world in which I now reside. As an added bonus, I know all the ins-and-outs of the Riga International Airport now too.That may come in handy again someday.
Since then, I've resumed my LCC life. But even that is anything but boring and predictable, though. I'm still working at the Klaipeda Special School. I normally go in 3 or 4 mornings a week. It's hard to describe exactly what I do, but this past week, in celebration of Valentine's Day, I assisted the school psychologist and social worker in putting on a little Valentine's card-making bash. Lots of tracing, cutting, colouring, and fun, and I may or may not have received a few gifts myself along the way. The rest of my days at the school are still spent in helping and playing in whatever ways I can. Though this is a rather simple evaluation of the whole thing so far, I'll say that it's been a great experience. I've learned a ton, but I don't even know if I could articulate it all right now.
So that's some of what I'm up to. But you know what, dear blogosphere? I have a confession. I have a hard time with writing here lately. Before this point, I've never lacked for material or inspiration for my ramblings. But for some reason, at a time where I am being constantly stimulated by new things and theoretically should be bursting at the seams with inspiration, I am kind of at a loss. I can certainly talk about the things that occupy my time, but I've always preferred to reflect more thoughtfully. But to do so requires some kind of concrete perspective or thought. Perhaps simply because my stimulation is so constant, and each experience is so new, and each day brings with new feelings and knowledge, I don't really feel like I'm at the right vantage point for philosophical musings on my present circumstances. Which is kind of a funny place for me to be in, because, as you may know, I really like all that philosophical musing stuff.
Ah well. Before I know it I'll be on my way home and trying once again to make sense of all of this. I still think very often about my time in Philly, and still feel impacted by all that happened there. So soon enough this time in Europe will be another experience relegated to the slow-cooker of influence that is memory. Hmm.. think about that.
So I'll end these pseudo-philosophical thoughts with something inspirational. Though it is rather specific...
If you are a 14-year old student, studying in the land of Canada, studying French in Grade 9, wondering whether to drop it and finally gain your freedom from the tyranny of the tres difficile, please do not. Because some day down the road, when you are 20-years old and your 8 years of mandatory french education is tightly locked in a vault in the recesses of your mind, you may find yourself in a place where everyone you meet speaks two languages better than you can speak one. And most people can speak three or four without batting an eye. And you will be asked by others and indeed ask yourself why you cannot speak more than one language. Aren't Canadians supposed to know French? you will be asked. And suddenly all of your adolescent reasoning and ethnocentric scoffing at the idea of learning French will suddenly seem remarkably short-sighted. And as you realize your severe linguistic handicap you will curse the day that band or gym or art or sleep took precedence over the priceless skill of bilingualism, when it was yours to cherish and to hold.
I speak from experience.
Well, that is all for tonight. I have one final thought that does not connect with anything I have said thus far. It is a fragment of 1 Corinthians 15:10. The Apostle Paul, on the state of his life: But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect.
By the grace of God, we are who we are. Receive that grace, and display its effects.
Love,
jmb
It is sunny today. A delightful thing in any part of the world, no doubt, but it is especially so here, where the sun is seldom seen during remarkably gray winter months. But the sun shines brilliantly, and it has for almost a week straight. Clearly God's favour shines on Klaipeda lately.
I mentioned last time an upcoming trip to Stockholm. Well, said trip came quickly and went wonderfully. I was absolutely enthralled by the 14-island city, by it's staggeringly beautiful and balanced blend of ancient history and the ultra modern. Not that I've been that many places, but it really was unlike any place I'd ever been. Some notable highlights: wandering through the medieval streets and palace grounds of the old town, cheering for Sweden at Europe's largest hockey arena in a friendly Sweden-Russia game, shopping in the city's sprawling (and remarkably trendy) shopping district (which is almost a whole island to itself), sipping hot drinks at coffeeshops that put every Starbucks to shame, and on and on. Even the hours of bus and plane travel on either end of the trip was a great way to see more of this part of the world in which I now reside. As an added bonus, I know all the ins-and-outs of the Riga International Airport now too.That may come in handy again someday.
Since then, I've resumed my LCC life. But even that is anything but boring and predictable, though. I'm still working at the Klaipeda Special School. I normally go in 3 or 4 mornings a week. It's hard to describe exactly what I do, but this past week, in celebration of Valentine's Day, I assisted the school psychologist and social worker in putting on a little Valentine's card-making bash. Lots of tracing, cutting, colouring, and fun, and I may or may not have received a few gifts myself along the way. The rest of my days at the school are still spent in helping and playing in whatever ways I can. Though this is a rather simple evaluation of the whole thing so far, I'll say that it's been a great experience. I've learned a ton, but I don't even know if I could articulate it all right now.
So that's some of what I'm up to. But you know what, dear blogosphere? I have a confession. I have a hard time with writing here lately. Before this point, I've never lacked for material or inspiration for my ramblings. But for some reason, at a time where I am being constantly stimulated by new things and theoretically should be bursting at the seams with inspiration, I am kind of at a loss. I can certainly talk about the things that occupy my time, but I've always preferred to reflect more thoughtfully. But to do so requires some kind of concrete perspective or thought. Perhaps simply because my stimulation is so constant, and each experience is so new, and each day brings with new feelings and knowledge, I don't really feel like I'm at the right vantage point for philosophical musings on my present circumstances. Which is kind of a funny place for me to be in, because, as you may know, I really like all that philosophical musing stuff.
Ah well. Before I know it I'll be on my way home and trying once again to make sense of all of this. I still think very often about my time in Philly, and still feel impacted by all that happened there. So soon enough this time in Europe will be another experience relegated to the slow-cooker of influence that is memory. Hmm.. think about that.
So I'll end these pseudo-philosophical thoughts with something inspirational. Though it is rather specific...
If you are a 14-year old student, studying in the land of Canada, studying French in Grade 9, wondering whether to drop it and finally gain your freedom from the tyranny of the tres difficile, please do not. Because some day down the road, when you are 20-years old and your 8 years of mandatory french education is tightly locked in a vault in the recesses of your mind, you may find yourself in a place where everyone you meet speaks two languages better than you can speak one. And most people can speak three or four without batting an eye. And you will be asked by others and indeed ask yourself why you cannot speak more than one language. Aren't Canadians supposed to know French? you will be asked. And suddenly all of your adolescent reasoning and ethnocentric scoffing at the idea of learning French will suddenly seem remarkably short-sighted. And as you realize your severe linguistic handicap you will curse the day that band or gym or art or sleep took precedence over the priceless skill of bilingualism, when it was yours to cherish and to hold.
I speak from experience.
Well, that is all for tonight. I have one final thought that does not connect with anything I have said thus far. It is a fragment of 1 Corinthians 15:10. The Apostle Paul, on the state of his life: But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect.
By the grace of God, we are who we are. Receive that grace, and display its effects.
Love,
jmb
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Labas!
Hey world,
It's late on a Thursday evening. Life, to put it simply, has been great lately. But I don't have much time to talk about that. Because in the morning, I embark on another mini-adventure. An adventure within an adventure.
I'm spending the weekend in Stockholm. (I just like saying that. Not every day I'll be able to answer the So, what did you do this weekend question with, "Oh, you know, not much. Went to Stockholm. Hung out.")
So that should be awesome. Got a whole bunch of buses and planes to catch on the way, but by the end of it I'll have conquered a little more of Northern Europe. That's right. I'm here to conquer.
In other news, I'm a couple weeks into my practicum at Klaipedos 2-oji Specialoji Mokykla (Klaipeda 2nd Special School), where I shadow a school psychologist, and spend my mornings playing/teaching developmentally disabled children. It's a lot of colouring, playing, tutoring, and the odd English lesson too. Great times. Much more on that to come.
Hope wherever you are right now, you feel loved and blessed. Because you are.
Aight. Peace for now!
jmb
It's late on a Thursday evening. Life, to put it simply, has been great lately. But I don't have much time to talk about that. Because in the morning, I embark on another mini-adventure. An adventure within an adventure.
I'm spending the weekend in Stockholm. (I just like saying that. Not every day I'll be able to answer the So, what did you do this weekend question with, "Oh, you know, not much. Went to Stockholm. Hung out.")
So that should be awesome. Got a whole bunch of buses and planes to catch on the way, but by the end of it I'll have conquered a little more of Northern Europe. That's right. I'm here to conquer.
In other news, I'm a couple weeks into my practicum at Klaipedos 2-oji Specialoji Mokykla (Klaipeda 2nd Special School), where I shadow a school psychologist, and spend my mornings playing/teaching developmentally disabled children. It's a lot of colouring, playing, tutoring, and the odd English lesson too. Great times. Much more on that to come.
Hope wherever you are right now, you feel loved and blessed. Because you are.
Aight. Peace for now!
jmb
Friday, January 28, 2011
Life Lately
Hey people,
It's been a couple weeks since I've written here. A couple of rather enjoyable, often crazy weeks, in fact. There is much I could say on a personal level, but I'll save my blathering on about self-discovery and trials for more personal forms of communication. So, good blogosphere, I treat you now to a summation of life lately.
Classes have been rather light lately, and my schedule has remained relatively open. I never have class in the mornings, and only ever for two or three hours in the afternoon. At first this free time drove my busybody crazy, but said busybody quickly found means to busyness. I've spent a delightful amount of time in prayer and reading my Bible, which at such a disorienting time and place is a divinely orienting thing. I've spent time at the gym, fulfilled my Canadian reputation playing pick-up floor hockey, and digested a nearly daily dose of political satire and news (thank you, Mr. Stewart and Mr. Colbert). But that's just the free time.
I was approached rather last minute to join a team for the annual KVN comedy show here at LCC. For those unfamiliar with KVN (join the club) it is essentially the Russian version of SNL. Except it's a competition between two teams. Competitive comedy, with a week to prepare. Talk about pressure. But, at the same time, talk about fun! Countless hours over the past week and a half were spent rehearsing, planning, editing, mixing, revising, and laughing. Though I must admit that, due to my late arrival on the scene and my profoundly un-Russian sense of humour, many of the jokes I delivered made little sense to me. But I'm thankful they were found funny upon delivery..
Our big show was last night, though, and it was certainly a success. We laughed, we cheered, we panicked, and at the end of it all, we won! My team was comprised of a Canadian, Albanian, Latvian, a few Ukrainians, Russians and others. So even if we hadn't won, the experience of working and laughing with all these wonderful people is one I will not forget.
I've started a practicum/internship/volunteer placement at a local school for children with developmental disabilities. I went in for the first time yesterday with my professor, who helped me navigate the halls and language differences. But I go in on Monday by myself. I'm really excited to begin, but I definitely got the impression that this school is a challenging place to work, and my time there (especially with so much broken communication) will be a challenge in many ways. But I'm ready. What's the worst that can happen? Perhaps I'll be confronted daily with challenging or uncomfortable situations. Likely, in fact. But, hey, I came here to experience and learn. Hard to do that sitting in your room twiddling your thumbs. So here goes nothing!
Well, world, I must now bid you viso gero (good bye). I'll be back with more in the coming days.
And thanks so much for reading this. You, sitting there reading this right now. Yes, you. You rock. God loves you. So do I.
jmb
It's been a couple weeks since I've written here. A couple of rather enjoyable, often crazy weeks, in fact. There is much I could say on a personal level, but I'll save my blathering on about self-discovery and trials for more personal forms of communication. So, good blogosphere, I treat you now to a summation of life lately.
Classes have been rather light lately, and my schedule has remained relatively open. I never have class in the mornings, and only ever for two or three hours in the afternoon. At first this free time drove my busybody crazy, but said busybody quickly found means to busyness. I've spent a delightful amount of time in prayer and reading my Bible, which at such a disorienting time and place is a divinely orienting thing. I've spent time at the gym, fulfilled my Canadian reputation playing pick-up floor hockey, and digested a nearly daily dose of political satire and news (thank you, Mr. Stewart and Mr. Colbert). But that's just the free time.
I was approached rather last minute to join a team for the annual KVN comedy show here at LCC. For those unfamiliar with KVN (join the club) it is essentially the Russian version of SNL. Except it's a competition between two teams. Competitive comedy, with a week to prepare. Talk about pressure. But, at the same time, talk about fun! Countless hours over the past week and a half were spent rehearsing, planning, editing, mixing, revising, and laughing. Though I must admit that, due to my late arrival on the scene and my profoundly un-Russian sense of humour, many of the jokes I delivered made little sense to me. But I'm thankful they were found funny upon delivery..
Our big show was last night, though, and it was certainly a success. We laughed, we cheered, we panicked, and at the end of it all, we won! My team was comprised of a Canadian, Albanian, Latvian, a few Ukrainians, Russians and others. So even if we hadn't won, the experience of working and laughing with all these wonderful people is one I will not forget.
I've started a practicum/internship/volunteer placement at a local school for children with developmental disabilities. I went in for the first time yesterday with my professor, who helped me navigate the halls and language differences. But I go in on Monday by myself. I'm really excited to begin, but I definitely got the impression that this school is a challenging place to work, and my time there (especially with so much broken communication) will be a challenge in many ways. But I'm ready. What's the worst that can happen? Perhaps I'll be confronted daily with challenging or uncomfortable situations. Likely, in fact. But, hey, I came here to experience and learn. Hard to do that sitting in your room twiddling your thumbs. So here goes nothing!
Well, world, I must now bid you viso gero (good bye). I'll be back with more in the coming days.
And thanks so much for reading this. You, sitting there reading this right now. Yes, you. You rock. God loves you. So do I.
jmb
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Here and Now
Hey People,
It's a chilly Saturday night in Klaipeda. Not too much going on. Just some reading, Russian TV dramas with roommates, and further experiments for dinner. The quiet time is nice, though, after a positively dizzying two weeks. As far as any sort of summation goes, I'm not sure even where to begin. My thoughts (and emotions) have been so strong but scattered that, for now, I'll provide you with a brief recap of my Lithuanian life thus far.
On the morning of Monday, January 3rd, I left Toronto, Canada. On the evening of Tuesday, January 4th, I arrived in Vilnius, Lithuania. I (and two travel companions) were promptly ushered into a taxi with a driver who spoke no English and hurried across the city to our three-day-hostel-home, just in time to head out for dinner with 18 strangers (fellow American students from various places, with a few Lithuanian helpers) to order from a menu we could not read food we had never eaten. Wild. But great.
The following two days were spent in Vilnius -- walking for miles, snapping pictures, eating out, mangling basic Lithuanian phrases, meeting new people, and all the while still meeting each other. It really is a special experience to be thrust into such intimate quarters with people you've never met, especially with the added expectation that these new faces are to become your close friends throughout the adventure. But I've been blessed to meet some great people and have some solid companions as we all embark on this adventure. [to see more of Vilnius, see my bookFace page]
It's fun to mangle words.
So by Thursday night we were in Klaipeda, greeted by staggering wind and sleet. But it was great to finally get settled in the place that will become our home for 4 months. In a funny way, it wasn't until classes began on Monday that my life began to slow down. The past week has been one of rather serious adjustment, but also some great exploration and fun. To be truthful, this adventure thus far has been a roller coaster of excitement and apprehension, anticipation and anxiety, but if you are really interested in those details then perhaps we could talk directly. But above it all, I am extremely grateful for this opportunity, and all the lessons I have learned even in this short time. Simply put, fearful uncertainty is being slowly replaced with bold certainty in God's faithfulness and my own need to be challenged.
Classes in this context have a much different feel, but I am excited for what I will learn from that very context, in addition to the material itself. I'm taking three psychology classes (Abnormal Psych, Theories of Personality, and Research Statistics), and Introduction to Lithuanian. I was also just approved for a practicum/internship at a local institution. Though there is much to be determined, it will likely be at a local orphanage. So in the meantime, any prayers for that endeavour are much appreciated.
It is now quite late. I acknowledge that my recapitulation has been rather brief and somewhat vague, but I assure you that more details (and pictures) will come with time. I have many things starting up this week, and I'm very excited to become more involved with this new community (both on campus and off).
If you are reading this, then I assume that you care about my adventures in some way. For that I thank you very much. It can be an isolating thing to be so, well, isolated, but support from all of you is a great encouragement. So thank you. Or, as they say it here, Aciu!
Sudie! (Go with God)
jmb
It's a chilly Saturday night in Klaipeda. Not too much going on. Just some reading, Russian TV dramas with roommates, and further experiments for dinner. The quiet time is nice, though, after a positively dizzying two weeks. As far as any sort of summation goes, I'm not sure even where to begin. My thoughts (and emotions) have been so strong but scattered that, for now, I'll provide you with a brief recap of my Lithuanian life thus far.
On the morning of Monday, January 3rd, I left Toronto, Canada. On the evening of Tuesday, January 4th, I arrived in Vilnius, Lithuania. I (and two travel companions) were promptly ushered into a taxi with a driver who spoke no English and hurried across the city to our three-day-hostel-home, just in time to head out for dinner with 18 strangers (fellow American students from various places, with a few Lithuanian helpers) to order from a menu we could not read food we had never eaten. Wild. But great.
The following two days were spent in Vilnius -- walking for miles, snapping pictures, eating out, mangling basic Lithuanian phrases, meeting new people, and all the while still meeting each other. It really is a special experience to be thrust into such intimate quarters with people you've never met, especially with the added expectation that these new faces are to become your close friends throughout the adventure. But I've been blessed to meet some great people and have some solid companions as we all embark on this adventure. [to see more of Vilnius, see my bookFace page]
It's fun to mangle words.
So by Thursday night we were in Klaipeda, greeted by staggering wind and sleet. But it was great to finally get settled in the place that will become our home for 4 months. In a funny way, it wasn't until classes began on Monday that my life began to slow down. The past week has been one of rather serious adjustment, but also some great exploration and fun. To be truthful, this adventure thus far has been a roller coaster of excitement and apprehension, anticipation and anxiety, but if you are really interested in those details then perhaps we could talk directly. But above it all, I am extremely grateful for this opportunity, and all the lessons I have learned even in this short time. Simply put, fearful uncertainty is being slowly replaced with bold certainty in God's faithfulness and my own need to be challenged.
Classes in this context have a much different feel, but I am excited for what I will learn from that very context, in addition to the material itself. I'm taking three psychology classes (Abnormal Psych, Theories of Personality, and Research Statistics), and Introduction to Lithuanian. I was also just approved for a practicum/internship at a local institution. Though there is much to be determined, it will likely be at a local orphanage. So in the meantime, any prayers for that endeavour are much appreciated.
It is now quite late. I acknowledge that my recapitulation has been rather brief and somewhat vague, but I assure you that more details (and pictures) will come with time. I have many things starting up this week, and I'm very excited to become more involved with this new community (both on campus and off).
If you are reading this, then I assume that you care about my adventures in some way. For that I thank you very much. It can be an isolating thing to be so, well, isolated, but support from all of you is a great encouragement. So thank you. Or, as they say it here, Aciu!
Sudie! (Go with God)
jmb
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Hello from Lithuania
Hey people,
I write to you now from that distant land of snow and ice and kepta duona. It's a little land with a lot of spirit, in a part of the world few of you may ever consider, with a language few on earth can understand. After a week of moving and seeing and gawking and leaving, we have finally arrived in our new home. At Lithuania Christian College International University. In Klaipeda, Lithuania.
So, far from home in a corner of the world I barely even know, with people I do not know speaking languages I do not know, I'm going to spend my semester. It's a rather frightening prospect, such extreme unfamiliarity. But it's also undeniably inspiring. Challenging. Exhilarating.
So here it goes. I have much I could say already, but I will save some of my thoughts for the clarity of retrospection. For your visual stimulation in the meantime, if you are interested, pictures are available on the Face Book.
Thanks for stopping by! That's all for now.
jmb
I write to you now from that distant land of snow and ice and kepta duona. It's a little land with a lot of spirit, in a part of the world few of you may ever consider, with a language few on earth can understand. After a week of moving and seeing and gawking and leaving, we have finally arrived in our new home. At Lithuania Christian College International University. In Klaipeda, Lithuania.
So, far from home in a corner of the world I barely even know, with people I do not know speaking languages I do not know, I'm going to spend my semester. It's a rather frightening prospect, such extreme unfamiliarity. But it's also undeniably inspiring. Challenging. Exhilarating.
So here it goes. I have much I could say already, but I will save some of my thoughts for the clarity of retrospection. For your visual stimulation in the meantime, if you are interested, pictures are available on the Face Book.
Thanks for stopping by! That's all for now.
jmb
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Gospel
Hey people,
I'm home. After one heck of a semester I've packed my life up again and plopped it back in Unionville for a couple weeks. I'll be shipping it overseas in a few weeks, but until then I'd like to offer some thoughts.
We are always learning. All the time. Even if it's just directions to somewhere, how your friend's night was, or philosophical postulations on divine foreknowledge, the world is a never-ending book to learn from. Rather daunting, if you think about it. But still very exciting. So all of that to say, I learned a ton this semester. Much of it I would like to share with you, and lucky for you, I can! I spent much of the semester studying different theories of psychotherapy and internally wrestling with their implications for faith. At the end of it all, I wrote a whopper of a paper on my views of human nature and problems and solutions for mental health (which I am quite proud of). So if you're interested in learning about the "Bodenian" approach to therapy, you can find it here. Personal Counseling Theory
Alright. That's enough of that.
There is one thing I would like to say, and it deserves much more thought than what I have time to give it right now. It concerns the Gospel, the Good News, the Christian message, or whatever you would call it. I would like to share with you what months of philosophical-postulating, theological-pondering, and thoughtful beard-stroking has taught me. Through my Philosophy of Religion class and personal investment in the topic, I quite literally dissected every facet of my faith in Jesus Christ, held it up to every lens of logical scrutiny, and somehow tried to stuff it back into my heart, where it must reside and guide my life.
The Gospel, the core of Christian belief, the saving message of God is this -- to know God.
To know him. To truly, intimately, deeply, emotionally, intellectually know God. That's simple, you may think. Perhaps to you it is. But for those of us who find ourselves thinking often about God, talking about him and learning about him, how radical and revolutionary it is to realize that we can talk to him. God is not a distant star to study, but a person to know.
For me, that is what it means to be a Christian. Know God. Funny concept to boil it all down to two little words, but those words are the starting point for all the intricacies and compulsions of belief. Once we know God for who he is, how can we but love him with our whole heart, soul, mind, and strength? Once we have known him, how can we but read his Word and pray and sing and live for him?
To know God is to realize our own position before him. We deserve nothing, yet he loves us lavishly. We defy him daily, yet he forgives us undeservedly. We are crafted pottery, eternally cherished by an eternal Potter and created for his glory.
So when we say we are "saved", what does that mean, exactly? We are saved from our crippling, sinful ignorance, and brought into redeeming knowledge of the Saviour. That's amazing.
In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul says that God has called us into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ. That's what we are called to. Not just to Church or youth group or church potlucks or to be a good person and to do Christian things. But we are called to know God, and be daily transformed by that knowledge. To fellowship with Jesus Christ and grow everyday as branches drawing nearer to the vine.
1 Corinthians 13:12 "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."
- jmb
I'm home. After one heck of a semester I've packed my life up again and plopped it back in Unionville for a couple weeks. I'll be shipping it overseas in a few weeks, but until then I'd like to offer some thoughts.
We are always learning. All the time. Even if it's just directions to somewhere, how your friend's night was, or philosophical postulations on divine foreknowledge, the world is a never-ending book to learn from. Rather daunting, if you think about it. But still very exciting. So all of that to say, I learned a ton this semester. Much of it I would like to share with you, and lucky for you, I can! I spent much of the semester studying different theories of psychotherapy and internally wrestling with their implications for faith. At the end of it all, I wrote a whopper of a paper on my views of human nature and problems and solutions for mental health (which I am quite proud of). So if you're interested in learning about the "Bodenian" approach to therapy, you can find it here. Personal Counseling Theory
Alright. That's enough of that.
There is one thing I would like to say, and it deserves much more thought than what I have time to give it right now. It concerns the Gospel, the Good News, the Christian message, or whatever you would call it. I would like to share with you what months of philosophical-postulating, theological-pondering, and thoughtful beard-stroking has taught me. Through my Philosophy of Religion class and personal investment in the topic, I quite literally dissected every facet of my faith in Jesus Christ, held it up to every lens of logical scrutiny, and somehow tried to stuff it back into my heart, where it must reside and guide my life.
The Gospel, the core of Christian belief, the saving message of God is this -- to know God.
To know him. To truly, intimately, deeply, emotionally, intellectually know God. That's simple, you may think. Perhaps to you it is. But for those of us who find ourselves thinking often about God, talking about him and learning about him, how radical and revolutionary it is to realize that we can talk to him. God is not a distant star to study, but a person to know.
For me, that is what it means to be a Christian. Know God. Funny concept to boil it all down to two little words, but those words are the starting point for all the intricacies and compulsions of belief. Once we know God for who he is, how can we but love him with our whole heart, soul, mind, and strength? Once we have known him, how can we but read his Word and pray and sing and live for him?
To know God is to realize our own position before him. We deserve nothing, yet he loves us lavishly. We defy him daily, yet he forgives us undeservedly. We are crafted pottery, eternally cherished by an eternal Potter and created for his glory.
So when we say we are "saved", what does that mean, exactly? We are saved from our crippling, sinful ignorance, and brought into redeeming knowledge of the Saviour. That's amazing.
In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul says that God has called us into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ. That's what we are called to. Not just to Church or youth group or church potlucks or to be a good person and to do Christian things. But we are called to know God, and be daily transformed by that knowledge. To fellowship with Jesus Christ and grow everyday as branches drawing nearer to the vine.
1 Corinthians 13:12 "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."
- jmb
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Lake Shore
Hello good world,
The times I feel most inspired to write something here seem to be the busiest, unfortunately. So then I come to a night like this where I have time to write, but I almost feel at a loss for material. I may have been at a real loss, in fact, had I not been presented with something rather frightening last night. Something terrible, terrifying, and quite frankly unbelievable.
Lake Shore.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Jersey Shore has come to Canada.
If you are familiar with Jersey Shore or its dazzlingly despicable legacy, then you might presently cease to read this post and retreat to some Apocalypse-ready bunker to wait out this onslaught of magnificently trashy entertainment. But that implies that it will end, when the scariest thing may be that it won't.
Jersey Shore is the ultimate in gratuitous reality television. For TV today it's not a novel concept. Just some filthy rich and beautiful people living their hedonistic lives -- drinking, tanning, working out, dating, fighting, crying, sleeping (together), shouting, and a little more drinking -- in front of the whole world. But I suppose what made Jersey Shore such a smashing success are the stereotypes. These unreal characters are beach bums (already room for stereotyping), living in New Jersey (sorry, Jersey, but more stereotypes), and are Italian. So throw it all together and you have hit television. We can watch from a distance, and giggle and gawk as every stereotype of such people is confirmed and strengthened.
I know people who live on the Jersey Shore. None of them are like the cast of the show, and yet their home will always be associated with this kind of blatant narcissism and youthful debauchery. Like it or not, the Jersey Shore will long be known for a small group of crazy kids. So when I was excitedly informed by a friend that "Canada has their own Jersey Shore!" I was less than impressed. Then I found out it's set in Toronto, and I was suddenly quite concerned.
You see, this show is not just a copy of Jersey Shore. It's already been called "more offensive." The oh-so-tasteful producers have thrown 8 people from different ethnic backgrounds together, and given them appropriate names like "the Jew" or "the Pole" or "the Albanian." You get the picture. On the surface, it seems like a wonderful opportunity to showcase Toronto's diversity, and that's exactly what the producer claims he is doing.
The problem, of course, Mr. Producer, is that these people are not real people. Sure, they are Toronto residents and big Jersey Shore fans who lined up for hours and auditioned to make the final cut for a show that will hopefully shoot them towards fame... but who is going to do all that and stand before a panel of judges and be anything like themselves? They've all watched every episode of Jersey Shore. They know what makes reality TV popular. The producers want attitude and sex appeal and drama, and the young stars want fame and money. It's an easy trade.
As a proud Torontonian watching his city from afar, I really hope Toronto is not thrust into the world's consciousness by the fame of Lake Shore. I wish all the best for these folks, but this show truthfully doesn't do anyone any good. They are still deciding on a network to broadcast it, I believe, so there's still a chance it won't air. Lines from "the Turk" like, "I'm not racist; I hate everyone... especially Jews" may slow things down. But better yet, we could all just throw out our TVs, cause the stuff on it isn't likely to get any better. Yeah, that'll do it..
If you just stop for a second to see these characters as real people, created by God for so much more, you see that behind their loud and brash and obnoxious behavior they are just screaming for love and attention. They are empty and unfulfilled, so they are digging their emptiness deeper in an attempt to get out. It's really sad, actually, and even sadder that their vulnerability and hunger will be exploited for a quick profit, by an audience combating their own emptiness. I'll just say it straight: these people need Jesus, to live the lives we were created for.
So as funny as it sounds, maybe I'll pray for the cast of Lake Shore. It can't hurt, and it certainly seems like they could use it. But anyways, I hope this is the first and last mention you ever hear of this show.
Sorry to be so serious. I should work on some jokes for next time.
Oh! I got it. I went to Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity last week and this sign (one of many) made me chuckle.
To all of you supporting anti-immigration policies:
You're right, immigrants are a problem.
Just ask the Native Americans.
Thank you very much. Have a good night.
jmb
The times I feel most inspired to write something here seem to be the busiest, unfortunately. So then I come to a night like this where I have time to write, but I almost feel at a loss for material. I may have been at a real loss, in fact, had I not been presented with something rather frightening last night. Something terrible, terrifying, and quite frankly unbelievable.
Lake Shore.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Jersey Shore has come to Canada.
If you are familiar with Jersey Shore or its dazzlingly despicable legacy, then you might presently cease to read this post and retreat to some Apocalypse-ready bunker to wait out this onslaught of magnificently trashy entertainment. But that implies that it will end, when the scariest thing may be that it won't.
Jersey Shore is the ultimate in gratuitous reality television. For TV today it's not a novel concept. Just some filthy rich and beautiful people living their hedonistic lives -- drinking, tanning, working out, dating, fighting, crying, sleeping (together), shouting, and a little more drinking -- in front of the whole world. But I suppose what made Jersey Shore such a smashing success are the stereotypes. These unreal characters are beach bums (already room for stereotyping), living in New Jersey (sorry, Jersey, but more stereotypes), and are Italian. So throw it all together and you have hit television. We can watch from a distance, and giggle and gawk as every stereotype of such people is confirmed and strengthened.
I know people who live on the Jersey Shore. None of them are like the cast of the show, and yet their home will always be associated with this kind of blatant narcissism and youthful debauchery. Like it or not, the Jersey Shore will long be known for a small group of crazy kids. So when I was excitedly informed by a friend that "Canada has their own Jersey Shore!" I was less than impressed. Then I found out it's set in Toronto, and I was suddenly quite concerned.
You see, this show is not just a copy of Jersey Shore. It's already been called "more offensive." The oh-so-tasteful producers have thrown 8 people from different ethnic backgrounds together, and given them appropriate names like "the Jew" or "the Pole" or "the Albanian." You get the picture. On the surface, it seems like a wonderful opportunity to showcase Toronto's diversity, and that's exactly what the producer claims he is doing.
The problem, of course, Mr. Producer, is that these people are not real people. Sure, they are Toronto residents and big Jersey Shore fans who lined up for hours and auditioned to make the final cut for a show that will hopefully shoot them towards fame... but who is going to do all that and stand before a panel of judges and be anything like themselves? They've all watched every episode of Jersey Shore. They know what makes reality TV popular. The producers want attitude and sex appeal and drama, and the young stars want fame and money. It's an easy trade.
As a proud Torontonian watching his city from afar, I really hope Toronto is not thrust into the world's consciousness by the fame of Lake Shore. I wish all the best for these folks, but this show truthfully doesn't do anyone any good. They are still deciding on a network to broadcast it, I believe, so there's still a chance it won't air. Lines from "the Turk" like, "I'm not racist; I hate everyone... especially Jews" may slow things down. But better yet, we could all just throw out our TVs, cause the stuff on it isn't likely to get any better. Yeah, that'll do it..
If you just stop for a second to see these characters as real people, created by God for so much more, you see that behind their loud and brash and obnoxious behavior they are just screaming for love and attention. They are empty and unfulfilled, so they are digging their emptiness deeper in an attempt to get out. It's really sad, actually, and even sadder that their vulnerability and hunger will be exploited for a quick profit, by an audience combating their own emptiness. I'll just say it straight: these people need Jesus, to live the lives we were created for.
So as funny as it sounds, maybe I'll pray for the cast of Lake Shore. It can't hurt, and it certainly seems like they could use it. But anyways, I hope this is the first and last mention you ever hear of this show.
Sorry to be so serious. I should work on some jokes for next time.
Oh! I got it. I went to Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity last week and this sign (one of many) made me chuckle.
To all of you supporting anti-immigration policies:
You're right, immigrants are a problem.
Just ask the Native Americans.
Thank you very much. Have a good night.
jmb
Sunday, October 24, 2010
I Like Maine
Hello world,
I've just returned from four days up in Maine, where I frolicked about with festive Fall frivolity among colorful trees, soaring hilltops and pounding ocean. We had a few days off for Fall Break, so I spent the time with a few friends at one fellow's house up there. Sure was beautiful. Breathtakingly so.
Of course I'm grateful to God for all times of the year, but this season is especially awe-inspiring for me. Likely for you as well. Anyway, there's much I could say, but I wrote a little article for the Op-Ed section of our school paper. In case you don't subscribe to The Swinging Bridge, I've shortened it and posted below. Hope you like it!
What's Like Got to Do With It?
Your cousin gets engaged. You like that. You post vacation photos. Your mom likes that. You share a joke with a new friend. He likes it. That kid from 8th grade science likes it too. Justin Bieber smiles. And 15 million people like it.
My question: what is like, exactly?
It’s no secret that Facebook has radically altered our social world. From the moment we sign over our names we are forever members of a new community – an online society that exists everywhere . . . and yet exists nowhere. Connections unhindered unite us with mindless ease to 500 million people across all manners of time and space.
Facebook is too large of a monster to wrestle in one go, and it’s too precious to us all to be adequately condemned. But there are certain aspects of this cyber-beast that rob too much of real friendship’s risk to be ignored. And this whole business of “liking”, for me, goes too far.
Once upon a time, dear cousin would have called you personally to deliver the good news. Mom would’ve been delighted to see the scrapbook you completed. Your joke would’ve been a special moment between two friends. And Justin Bieber, well, in another time he wouldn’t be.
But that isn’t the world our social lives inhabit anymore. Instead, each action can become a public display. In this new reality, the user chooses each social move carefully. He crafts his own image and selects his encounters; or when he so desires he simply observes unnoticed.
So it is in this era of cheapened social interaction that we find the ‘like’ button cheaper still. It takes the remnant of authentic exchange and whittles it to the core – to a primal instinct of pleasure or displeasure. Your personal congratulation to your cousin turned into an exclamatory wall post; now it is a virtual thumbs-up.
So we have ‘groups’ petitioning the folks at Facebook to create a ‘dislike’ button. After all, if we are reducing our response to a simple affirmative, why ignore the other basic affective state? If this happens, it doesn’t seem long before all words may be lost to our virtual selves; each newsfeed only a litany of thumbs up or down.
I believe that we were created for community and can function powerfully in authentic relationship. And it is this authenticity that is at risk when we maintain a friendship with sporadic 'likes.' There is no depth to our compliment or significance to our approval when it is so diminished. If we were vulnerable behind our Facebook profiles before, we are even less so when we use no words in our exchange. It’s simple and it’s safe to ‘like’ what you otherwise might have discussed – but perhaps it’s too simple, and perhaps too safe.
You could argue that this isn't a big deal, that though interaction be cheapened, friendship itself is strengthened. Even if you are just ‘liking’ someone else’s social activity, it’s still better than not interacting at all, right? And, anyways, you have 1, 627 friends. You just don’t have time to provide a deeper comment.
But there is a bigger issue here, I think. It’s simply a matter of how much we dare to think. How much will we question the ideas thrown at our minds or the tools thrust in our hands? History is being made by every moment that passes, but it is shaped by the choices we make. So think for yourself about the quality of friendship you wish to pursue; the identity you wish to embrace; the stamp you leave on the world.
Here’s a thought: each action on Facebook is an indelible imprint in time, one that will last even until the day your grandchildren add you as a friend. What sorts of relationships do you cultivate? What do you say? What do you like? Know that this crazy social world we inhabit no longer exists in our memories and old letters on a dusty shelf. It’s with us everyday, and it’s open for all to see.
So what do we do? Perhaps nothing new. We just think about each action, and remember that the gravity of personal dialogue can never be fully reduced to a single click of approval. It’s messy, this friendship thing. Let’s keep it that way.
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