Preach

Last semester I preached sermons in class. All I could concentrate on was the time ticking down in the back. Tick. Tock. Sounds the same. Feels different. Everybody sounds the same. Biblical. Outlined. Structured. Fifteen minutes. Metaphors. All check. But not quite the same.

And that same beat pumps again. There must be more.

What makes a great sermon? A powerful, impactful sermon? When God's Word is preached and people are not only convinced, but when they are cut to the heart and convicted. When the words aren't taken as useless chaff in the wind but rather seed for good soil. When it gets people out of their seats and the words translate into action.

What was last week's sermon about? And what did it cause us to say or do. Sometimes we jump to the next small group, the next resurgence article, the next Keller sermon, the next devotional, and all the way back to next Sunday's sermon again before we even have time to apply the Word in our lives. Is this the only reason why "quiet times" were made? To somehow keep us sputtering through desert until the next oasis? It's a motor cycle.

After sermons after sermons from preachers after preachers at conferences and churches, and after hearing speakers after speakers and retreats after retreats and revivals after revivals, anyone with a keen eye, great ears, smooth tongue can preach a powerful sermon. Any man or woman of great rhetoric can make people laugh and cry. Anyone can pump up a hungry crowd. Anyone can stitch together quotes and notes with various pieces of testimonies and personal anecdotes.

I am no expert, but even a kid, specifically a preacher's kid, can tell the difference. Home. Church. Life on the inside. Life on the outside. How thick is that line, that screen, that curtain, that wall? That whitewashed wall.

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,” and he was called God’s friend. You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.

In the same way, was not even Rahab the prostitute considered righteous for what she did when she gave lodging to the spies and sent them off in a different direction? As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead.

James 2:14-26

Don't believe the hype. See through the light. Don't fall for the big-eyed, arm-flailing, hand-clapping, Bible-thumping types. The volume of their voice has nothing to do with the passion in their daily choice to deny themselves truly and pick up the cross daily.

Hungry

You say you're hungry for God.

I believe you. I really do.

But

You've fed yourself the world

and filled yourself with lies

instead of being fed up with the world

and filled up with the Word.

You simply cannot take it in.

You really have no excuse.

Time

Attack.

Speed is not everything. Speed will often times give the perception of diligence and direction, but it may well be rushed and reckless. "So that you many have great endurance and patience..." Whether it is a decision to make or an action to take, patience never fails. If we are ever wondering about or doubting the reason for a certain difficulty or difficult choice in our lives, we must begin to think about what we would be doing and where we would be without that hindrance or stumbling block. Would we still be seeking God with the same desperation and cry for deliverance? Would we rejoice in God and give thanks to Him if the road was always smooth? No matter the speed, as long as we have a GPS (God's Positioning System) we are always in good hands. Missed exits, traffic jams, and wrong turns give us another opportunity to hear from Him again, to become more intimate with Him so that next time around we could hear more clearly and obey more surely. "He guides me along the right paths for His name's sake." Speed should never be derived out of worry or fear of failure because in the end, He will make sure you get to your destination. He is the author and perfecter of our faith. The place where there is a need for speed is in our turning to Him. How quickly do we turn away from our circumstantial anxiety and turn to Him, the solid Rock of Salvation? That will depend on how well and how readily we remember God's promises in His Word. Godspeed on God's speed.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

And do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge Him,

And He will make your paths straight.

Proverbs 3:5-6

Small but Big

Snowflake now

But made to be a snowman

Rolling now

But made to press on

Silent now

But made to proclaim

Slow going

But still growing

Still knowing

There must be more than this

They say valleys lead to mountains

But that's assuming you will stay on the road

They say after the storm comes a calm

But that's assuming you will survive the storm

How do you stay grounded in this sea of knowledge

In a world that says

Your truth is your truth

And mine is mine

How do you keep yourself from the pattern of drifting

In and out of love and passion for God

There is an anchor for our faith

His name is Jesus

He is the Word of God

There is nothing more than Him

Word Up

via ggcem

Spoken

Bread

"Honey, I'll get it for you....... later," the pastor said to his wife, who was pointing at a set of colorful plates with cute cartoon cat faces drawn into them. It was the running joke whenever they passed by a mall vendor. Whether they were in the Jacksonville countryside or now in the Los Angeles city, they knew their place, or rather they were reminded by their circumstance of God's calling in their lives. Reformed or not, theology was now in motion. As for the title "missionary" in a foreign land they fit every letter perfectly, both in speech and in action.

I was sitting in the leasing office yesterday waiting for the pastor and his wife to finish the application. The three of us had spent the afternoon looking for an apartment for the family to live in. They finally decided on the street side room; they valued sunlight more than quietude. The location was perfect because right across the street was the church he was going to serve at beginning in September. The apartment was small, the rooms were cozy, and the dining area was the awkward space where the living room morphed into a kitchen. In one word, it was cheap. Their humble beginnings were admirable and clearly visible enough for the land owner to express in numbers her financial sympathy for them (bless her soul), but their boldness and courage caused them to appear like warriors stepping into a battlefield, and their faith outweighed the circumstantial walls of Jericho. Some call that foolishness. Others call that trusting in the Lord. It was another gentle reminder of the path set before me. Outside looking in it's like I'm hanging by tattered threads over a deep, dark, endless pit - unsure of what is beyond and doubtful of what is at hand. But the view from above looking down, I'm safe and secure in His mighty hands.

I sat back in the armchair to relax realizing that the application process would take a while. I was musing over the grace of God in the pastor's life when suddenly it began to growl. I was hungry, but the growl missed my stomach. It had resonated from my heart and I was hungry for God. My body ached to hear the still small voice. please speak speak speak speak please. At that moment nothing else mattered except to hear God's voice, to seek His face with all I am, to taste and see how good He is, to know God more, and to love Him more than anything, more than everything. At that moment it didn't matter if I was rich or poor, healthy or sick, full or empty. It only mattered if I was filled with spiritual Bread.

broken and poured out all for love.

That's when it became clear that I would rather starve physically than starve spiritually. It became clearer as to why anyone would do what this pastor is doing - why anyone would have the world behind them and the cross before them - why anyone would choose the hard way of life for the benefit of others. "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."

And it was One Man who was broken

for us to hear what was spoken...

"It is finished."

Jesus is all I need and Jesus is all I have.

Yummy

Ever since I introduced the 'trust game' to the kids, they've been lining up to have me catch them. For some of them their level of trust in me is almost frightening; it's on the verge of faith. Others step back every time they begin to fall just in case I drop them. To them I give the "full trust" treatment where I purposely catch them at the last second. "You don't trust me?" Sometimes the little ones turn their backs to me and just start falling when I'm near them hoping, or trusting, that I would catch them... of course, I always do *flex*... but I don't think they understand what's going on. One word: dumbbells.

All I'm going to say is that parents these days must be buff and muscular.

Okay, that was a little too cryptic. Let's try that again. Kids these days are... healthy.

Speaking of (or looking at?) Pixar, the Wall-E scenario doesn't seem too sci-fi anymore, and it starts with me. Based on at least 2 faulty scales I gained nearly 20 pounds immediately after graduating. What can I say, mom's cooking is the best. But I'm willing to bet all the coins found in my car that it's all muscle weight. Then again, according to another faulty scale I dropped 10 pounds in one week, which actually was the average amount I fluctuated in college in between the Tuesday fish tacos and the Wednesday McNuggets. Wait, that's only one day apart. Yikes. This is when I turn to biology. Looking at dad's side, my uncles and male cousins are built ford tough, so I'm hoping my genes lean (punny) more towards mom's side (which seems to be the case judging by my Vegeta hairline) along with my lanky cousins. I can't rely on them genes all the time though because interestingly enough I've heard that many people "let go" after "tying the knot." Well, I guess they gotta be "one flesh" somehow. "Here honey, you can take half of my stomach and we'll call it even." So what's my solution to containing the jelly in mah belly you ask? Just hope that the wife doesn't cook well. Sometimes. 40 day fast is on my bucket list anyway.

I'm just wondering, is there such a thing as spiritual obesity? Having been raised in a family that greeted each other with "No Bread, no bread" instead of "good morning", I've always connected physical food (rice and kimchi) to spiritual food (the Word). One time I remember waking up hungry and following the smell of spam and eggs frying in the kitchen only to find dad reading the newspaper in the living room and blocking my path. "No Bread, no bread." Disgruntled and discontent, I dragged myself back to my room and pulled out my bible. Then a spark of genius. I had recently discovered the shortest chapter in the Bible during Sunday school (instead of paying attention to the sermon) and so I turned to my newfound treasure and read it like Naruto reading the forbidden kage bunshin scroll. I ran back to dad in triumph as if I had beaten him at his own game and boldly declared that I had had my Bread: Psalm 117.

Dad: "What was it about?"

Me: "Praise the Lord!"

He made me go back and read one more chapter. I think I cried or something, but I don't want to can't remember.

What was I talking about? Oh right. Spiritual phatness. I can imagine spiritual depravity when you deprive yourself of God's Word and become a poster child for the spiritual World Vision and get KO'ed by the devil every time, but I can't imagine having too much of the Word and becoming... lazy? You would just get more buff. I think. buffer? health? trust game? what? (this is my cue to stop and go to sleep).

Praise the Lord.

-------

Currently listening to the new ratatat album. thx ted.

Baker

I met this guy in class. He was very encouraging. On our way to the library he asked, "How's your personal time with God been like since starting seminary." I told him how excited I was and how what I'm learning is helping understand more of Scripture and its history and inspiration. In other words, I didn't quite answer his question. Then he stopped in his track and said he wanted to tell me two things.

First, he said, "Don't be a starving baker." I nodded slowly in confusion. He went on to explain that bakers, who bake all day, can sometimes have the sensation of feeling full even when they haven't eaten anything because they're constantly around food. Likewise, many seminary students have a high tendency to feel like they've gotten more than enough of Daily Bread because they are constantly having to study the Word and read about the Word. They hear it in class, they read it for homework, and they fill their heads with biblical knowledge, but in actuality, they're starving inside. The relationship with God is on hold and the Bible becomes an academic text book. He was speaking from many years of personal experience (transferred from another seminary). The words that stood out to me from his testimony were "dry" and "empty."

That was pretty dead on, right near the center of my heart. It didn't only apply to me in and for seminary, but in my daily walk, if I may, with God. Going to church, listening to sermons, praising 'up there', serving in various ministries, being in a small group, being a pastor's kid - all "Christian-y" areas had been infected (one way or another, minutely and unnoticeably) by the yeast of superficial merit derived from a whitewashed spiritual attendance chart. The relationship is there, but just covered in foolish self-righteous muck.

I liken this to a biology student studying his text book by using it as a pillow and calling it "learning by osmosis." Then he goes to class the next day for his final and shows the professor the red lined book mark (no pun intended but I tried) on his face and boasts with all the seriousness of an offended Harry Potter fan, "As you can see, by the marks on my forehead, I know my material. Therefore I don't need to take a test to prove my mastery of this subject." Unfortunately, physical proximity is not everything.

I'm learning. I'm learning a lot. The more I learn, the less I know. The less I know, the more I want to learn. It's a funny cycle.

By the way, I forgot the second thing he said as I was passionately recalling the first thing he said. Hopefully I'll remember later. I love the people. I love my classes. School is cool again. Praise God!

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.

Romans 8:1-2

Eat it. Just eat it.

Mmmmm

Psalm 19:7-10

The law of the LORD is perfect,

reviving the soul.

The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,

making wise the simple.

The precepts of the LORD are right,

giving joy to the heart.

The commands of the LORD are radiant,

giving light to the eyes.

The fear of the LORD is pure,

enduring forever.

The ordinances of the LORD are sure

and altogether righteous.

They are more precious than gold,

than much pure gold;

they are sweeter than honey,

than honey from the comb.

Word

Show me a Bible that is falling apart, and I'll show you a man who isn't.

- D. L. Moody (something like that)

I am sitting in a comfortable lean-back chair. The table is just the right distance and has just the right amount of space for all my books to spread their wings. Travis Cottrell is playing in my ears through the netbook on which I am typing. I am contemplating whether I should finish chapter 4 of Introduction to Biblical Interpretation or call it a day and head home before my eyes shut down. I say biblical canon and translation is rather interesting, but not as interesting as my bed right now. We'll see how long I can keep up.

I was introduced today as "the excited freshman" and that pretty sums up what I am right now as well as where I am right now. To get straight to the point, there is only one reason why I'm so excited, and that's because I'm studying the WORD. As I begin to study more and more (it's only been a week and a half or 3 days of classes) I'm reminded of one thing clearer than before. READ THE BIBLE. The past few weeks, every sermon, every passage, every meeting, every small talk, and everything in between seemed to be screaming, "SHUT UP AND READ YOUR BIBLE FOO!" PT was telling me to read. PJ in his sermons all week long was telling me to read. Multiple sermons on the radio were telling me to read. The cef bible camp theme was finalized to be B2B, Back to Bible or Back to Basics. All my classes were telling me to read, read, and read again (unfortunately not just the Bible). And all that is in me was clawing at the whitewashed walls to escape the dry and thirsty well within me. Let it reign. I am convicted to my core at how little of the Scriptures I know, not as one whose profession depends on knowing the word, but as one who puts his faith in the Word that became flesh and the Word that gives me life eternal.

It takes only 3 chapters a day to read the whole bible in one year. If I say I'm a Christian, a child of God, a follower of Jesus Christ, and I can't even count how many times I've read His Word.... just think about it. I could go as far as saying, "I'm not willing to give God even 20 minutes (at most for 3 chapters) of my day by reading his Word."

To know the Bible is not an option for those who want to know true inwardness. No one stays at the table long who does not study Scripture. Mystics without study are only spiritual romantics who want relationship without effort.
- Calvin Miller

As PT put it, "If you're not addicted to the Word, then you're most definitely addicted to something else." True that. "The Bible will keep you from sin, or sin will keep you from the Bible," is what D.L. Moody would say. And finally, in the words of the psalmist, "How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to your word."

So here's to a Josiah moment. Here's to a wake up call. Here's to discovering and rediscovering the sweetness of Jesus Christ revealed. Here's to a rekindled passion for knowing and obeying God's Word. Here's to a life full of Life.

Reporting live from the Biola library.

Blind Business

To make a short story ridiculously long...

After a long day at dad's office I tagged along with the staff to get some cheap all-you-can-eat meat at O-Dae-San (I should get paid for this). As the others were being seated I decided to do some business (pronounced binness). On my way to the restroom I was looking down at my right foot and walking in big strides to avoid a shoelace that came untied. Right before the doorway into the bathroom I got down on one knee to tie my shoes, but right then I heard someone coming up behind me, and because I am such a gentleman who doesn't like clogging up narrow passages I quickly tucked my shoelaces into my shoe and went straight into the bathroom. The man followed behind me and I quickly claimed a stall. As niagra was falling I wondered why I hadn't seen any urinals because if I had, I would have preferred them over stalls (locking the door is a hassle). Suddenly, I heard high heels clip clop into the restroom and a surprised, shocked, disgusted female voice asking:

"Oppa? Why are you in here?"

And the man who had followed me into the bathroom said:

"Oh, I just... this g... oops, sorry, wrong bathroom... mumble mumble"

(niagra still falls mightily as the conversation goes on)

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNDRAISER!!!

The man left quickly for the right door, the man door. Although the man was 'sheepish' enough to follow me in he had enough fuzziness to save the face of a fellow stupid sheep. Thanks. for nothing. I stood in the stall, helpless, like baby Moses as his mother put him in a basket in the Nile river. But I couldn't flush yet because that would give it away. I was pretty relaxed given the predicament I was in because I planned to wait until she either got into a stall or left and then ninja my out of there. But then I thought, oh shoot. the female must know already because girls don't usually stand... omg there's a monster gap in between the hinges, and my shoes omg my shoes are showing and I'm facing the toilet, omg she could totally see me. So much for privacy in public restrooms. At that point, my delayed fight-or-flight senses kicked in and my thought process went something like - Fear. Freeze. Sweat. Pee. Ice. Heroes. Stop. Time. Invisible. Disappear. Ding. Southwest. Commercial. Laugh. Joke. Shut. Up. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Idiot. Moron. I'm. Scared. Jail. Die. Then I calmed myself down in between shallow breaths and regained my statue, yes, statue.

The problem now was waiting for the female to leave. My prayer was that no more females would enter into this public domain. I waited for her to enter into a stall, but she had other business in mind. All I heard was the ch-kunk ch-kunk of the paper towel dispenser, then the clip clop of her heels to (please... outside) the sink, then the pshhhh of the faucet, then silence (finally?), then the clip clop of her heels to (c'mon... this time) the paper towel dispenser, and repeat the same process 5 times (no exaggeration added). Now I was getting frustrated... What is she doing? Writing a message on the mirror with wet paper towels? (in which it would have read "pervert in restroom call 911"). The 6th deadly silence in her fixed action pattern ritual was unusually long and that convinced me she was finally out, and without a second guess I flushed the toilet, unlocked my stall and...

CLIPPITY CLOPPITY!

... my heart dropped as I saw the female, with only her back visible, leaving the restroom. She knew. My guess is she was actually at the sink (in the silence), but when she heard me flush and unlock the stall she didn't want to embarrass me so she quickly left without finishing her face painting. Aww how niCELEBRATIONVICTORY! I lagged behind a few seconds and finally escaped. The next second I found myself entering the right door into the men's restroom. I walked in, closed the door behind me and thought, "Why did I come in here again?" According to my post-analysis, my manliness subconsciously needed to right the wrong and do something manly even if it was too late.

something like that.

I went back to my seat and told the party of my folly and it instantly became comedy. But my concern is that the man and the feman might be having a comedy show at my expense: "Dude, lol, there was, lol, this guy... lol"

On the plus side, the meat was scrumptiously delicious!

Mood: Thankful.

Moral of the story: Read your bible.

"Leave them; they are blind guides.

If a man leads a blind man, both will fall into a pit."

M15:14

Milk and Coffee

Taking out some money from the bank and going to Coffee Bean.

$40.00

Getting super cold and not having my sweater, which was probably

$39.99

Experimenting in the past to find out if I really am allergic to coffee.

$13.00

Ordering a small hot chocolate with the knowledge of that dark, bitter truth.

$2.20

But not paying that amount because I changed my mind to medium.

$2.80

Deliciously drinking it all then suddenly remembering I am lactose intolerant.

$@#!

Holding it in up to my rectal limit, then FOL (Farting Out Loud).

$0.00

Reading the Word like my life depended on it.

Priceless

and way sweeter than hot chocolate.

In n Out

I was shivering in my basketball shorts and from the cooled sweat from my drenched t-shirt. The La Crescenta night breeze was refreshing and cool while running on the courts, but now at the outdoor benches of the restaurant it was getting chilly. It didn't help that I was sipping on ice cold pink lemonade. There was the usual small talk when dealing with a stranger, but all I could do was wait for someone to lose. I was stuck. Then the old man with the potty mouth asked, "You know Acts 2:38?" I was surprised at first that this unkempt, rancid, chess infatuated old man would recite a bible verse. Then I was disappointed at myself... "No."

"You got a bible on you? Where's your bible? You said you're going to seminary aren't ya? Maybe you can learn something tonight."

I didn't. I had left my bible at home after church that evening, but my pride took me to the small parking lot. I searched my car in panic and luckily found a Gideon pocket bible (which I didn't know I had) at the bottom of the middle compartment under all the trash and old receipts. "Holy Spirit, please give me wisdom." I took it back to the outdoor tables and the old man, focused on the game and without even a glance in my direction, said, "Read it out loud, nice and clear." He stopped me at Jesus Christ as he slammed down his rook to capture my friend's bishop. "hah!"

He turned to me, "Pastors are liars. You don't get baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit. You get baptized only in the name of Jesus Christ. Try telling your pastor that. Lost for words I tell ya. Don't worry kiddo it took me 30 years to figure that one out."

what?

Then he went on to talk about how he goes to an apostolic church and that they got the real deal - a real choir, and a real organ - not the fake worship with phony instruments. His response to my stuttering defense (full of 'well's and 'I think's) for the heart of worship was, "No no no no. Don't give me that."

what?

all I need to say is "Jesus Christ" right? all I need to recite is John 3:16 right? what the funnel cake do I say to all of that nonsense?

Checkmate. I sat in silence until the old man overtook my friend's king. We parted ways and went home, and in my state of defeat, only one thing was running through my head- WORD.

Read the WORD. Know the WORD.

"Preach the Word; be prepared IN season and OUT of season; correct, rebuke and encourage - with great patience and careful instruction."

2 Timothy 4:2

It wasn't mere coincidence that God humbled me at In n Out.

The season is right. The season is now.