tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61566575513682629752024-03-13T01:27:04.064-07:00Wish You Were HereBecause life is better sharedElijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.comBlogger417125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-30204186272780094302010-03-12T09:40:00.000-08:002010-03-12T09:54:26.274-08:00SabbaticalI know I said last week that I'd be back this week, but then I got sick.<br /><br />It has not been fun.<br /><br />I'm feeling better though, which is good, and I've also decided to let my blog rest for a while. I'm not sure how long. At least the next couple of weeks. Maybe longer. We'll see.<br /><br />I don't feel like my posts for the past few months have been worth your time to read. I don't like that. I think some things are best left undone rather than done poorly. I need to figure out a better rhythm and reason to continue writing in this venue. I appreciate your readership, and it is because I value you that I am unwilling to offer you something I deem of little value.<br /><br />I'm also reevaluating what I want this blog to be. It isn't an easy thing to put one's deep thoughts and emotions into published prose for the world to read. I need to figure out how and if I want to continue to do that in this way.<br /><br />Until next time, may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you always. He is always good. His love rages for you. He never fails. He is making all things new.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-18014558557822046162010-03-03T23:12:00.000-08:002010-03-03T23:21:37.415-08:00Where IAMI am at the International Arts Movement (IAM) Encounter conference in New York City this week. I won't really have time to blog, but if you want to see my thoughts and a lot of pictures, click on over to <a href="http://twitter.com/elijahdavidson">my Twitter feed</a>.<br /><br />I'll be back next week.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-89496942655579632692010-03-03T06:00:00.000-08:002010-03-03T06:00:00.590-08:00Wide Open<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.shine-photographics.org.uk/wispy%20clouds%201.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="http://www.shine-photographics.org.uk/wispy%20clouds%201.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />His skin felt too tight. It constricted him. It turned in on itself. He felt it drawing into his chest, pulling him closer and closer to collapsing like an old star. The gravity of his heart was destroying him.<br /><br />When did this start? He couldn't remember. It happened slowly, so slowly in fact that he felt as if he had always felt this way. But that couldn't be. If that were true, he'd of imploded long ago. The pressure was too pressing. The tightness too tightening. It could not have always been this way. He couldn't stay this way much longer.<br /><br />The happiest times were the worst, not while they were happy but almost immediately after they ended. They always ended. His friends would come along and take his hands and spread wide his arms and stall the strangling. They stretched him. They freed him. They gave him hope to live.<br /><br />And then they left. It was not theirs to stay. No fault should be placed upon them. This is just the way of things. They good they did was better than he ever dared hope for, better than they needed to do. They left, but before they could leave, they had to come, and for coming they are to be praised.<br /><br />And when they left, he turned back into himself. He closed back up, or rather, he felt the closing with more profundity.<br /><br />Oh, how he longed to be free! How he ached to liberated from his own gravity! But he had not the strength within himself. Indeed, it was the strength within himself that was killing him. It drew him up. It pulled him in. He found himself on the floor on his knees, his chest to his thighs, his chin to his chest, his fists to his chin, and his elbows to his side.<br /><br />He prayed.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Freedom. Grant me freedom. Help me, oh God. Help me. Please.</span><br /><br />He opened his eyes. His limbs began to loosen. He crouched. He raised. He stood. He arched his back. His arms fell free at his side. He lifted them. He turned his face toward the sky. He spread wide his arms. He splayed all his fingers. He stretched, and he stretched, and he stretched. And his heart beat strong. And he filled his lungs. And his skin so tight began to tear right down the center of his chest. And his muscles parted. And his flesh slipped from his shoulders like an unbuttoned shirt and fell off his arms and to the ground where it dried up and blew away.<br /><br />He stood there then, radiant, glimmering, shining, alive fully. He burned yellow and orange and red. White light streamed from his eyes and mouth. He lifted off the ground and spun slowly around and then suddenly flew into the wide open blue of the sky, singeing the wispy clouds as he burned through them.<br /><br />Finally, he was free.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-86766986752768950192010-03-01T15:50:00.000-08:002010-03-01T15:51:36.109-08:00Urban RetreatI don’t want to focus on the rain. That’s too easy. That takes little imagination, little thought. I’m not much for overused symbols and tired clichés. I want more challenge. I want to be able to see more than the falling water, to hear more than the splashes and wind.<br /><br />I want to see the city. I want to hear the city. Better, I want to see and hear God in the midst of the city. As we walked through the terminal at Union Station, we prayed that our Father would fill our silence with His voice. I pray that prayer still as I sit here in the shelter of my apartment complex and watch the neighbors’ kids play beneath this balcony and reflect on my experience yesterday. Oh, God, give me insight. Help me to understand.<br /><br />And still the rain pours. Still the wind blows. Even now, in my memory, the rain overwhelms everything just as it did during my retreat. I cannot escape it, and to try to focus elsewhere is false. Where is God present in the urban center? Where is God’s voice? God is in the rain. I saw Him in the storm. I heard Him in the falling water.<br /><br />God quickened our steps. He would not let us linger. The rain drove us forward in search of shelter, and shelter was easy to find. We found it under trees and overpasses, in convenience stores and cathedrals, and on the steps of municipal buildings and market places.<br /><br />And where there was shelter from the storm, there were people. God’s rain drove us together. We commiserated in the dry spots. “We” was more than my friend who accompanied me. “We” included the homeless, the single mother with her child, and the businessman on break for lunch. Because of the rain, each individual became a part of “we.” We retreated from the curb as the bus drove by splashing through the puddles lest we be soaked. We laughed about the fury of the weather and what a great day we’d all chosen to take a stroll. We went our separate ways as God’s rain abated and let us each leave the shelter a little less alone than we were when we walked in.<br /><br />The easy thing to say is that the rain washed the city clean, but this is not true. We made our way to the municipal buildings, and the filth of the city became suddenly apparent. Etched above the doors of city hall were the words of Abraham Lincoln, “Let us have faith that right makes might,” and below that phrase the words of the Bible were inscribed, “The throne is established through righteousness.” Surely, the words were carved in the concrete face as a reproach to those who would dare use their power for evil. Surely. On this day, however, as the tower rose intimidatingly against the grey-clouded sky, I could only read the words as filthy justification for whatever happened within and in the shadow of those walls. No one congregated on the city hall steps. This was no place of refuge in the rain. This was a place of imposition and assault. This was a place where I was drawn to pray for true justice, for the justice not of law but of love.<br /><br />Later, as we enjoyed Asian cuisine as the only two white people in the Central Market surrounded by people speaking the Spanish language, we discussed what God had spoken to each of us in our silence, we prayed together and thanked God for meeting with us, for allowing us into His heart in the heart of the city, and then we set off back out into the still falling rain.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-72549133380926019182010-02-25T00:34:00.000-08:002010-02-25T00:36:33.665-08:00My ApologiesI am smack dab in the middle of a very busy week, and I have not had time to blog. I would like to extend my sincere apologies to you, my faithful readers, for disappearing without warning.<br /><br />I will return.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-46055664332567615822010-02-19T08:17:00.000-08:002010-02-19T15:30:38.798-08:00My Dad and Rob Bell<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/m6CUlEPQMvEm9nZDzU383g?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3lxtW19qeKOA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-Bk5LoBsUnXjxvCNwXHylkG3PK09yx2JtZrSqGjgBZDW9-3L0pHSHJeeByTavjI58WElJIRITkcPIKoSrkYsOjzB_I7Uczz4TZDjHje2PeN-ypeZX5GnLvuAdrOE0zNhuqeh8oVwS5A/s400/IMG_9169.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I need to tell you about my father.<br /><br />But first I need to tell you about my seminary.<br /><br />But even before that I need to tell you about myself.<br /><br />And after all that, I need to tell you about last night.<br /><br />Let's begin...<br /><br />I tend to think a lot of myself. I'm constantly impressed with how open I am to new ideas and how accepting I am even of people whom I don't necessarily agree with.<br /><br />My great humility is what makes me so hospitable to others and other ideas. I'm remarkable really, and I've become this way all on my own.<br /><br />Yeah right.<br /><br />If I am any of these things, it's certainly not my own doing. I do tend to lean to openness, but it's not because I'm so awesome. I've been formed to be that way.<br /><br />Fuller is a seminary that exists to be in the middle. It strives in just about all things to live in the tension of two opposing ideas. I think that's why it has produced the likes of both Tony Jones and John Piper. Fuller is a place where it's kind of ok to fall on either side of most theological and sociological lines. Fuller walks the line.<br /><br />But Fuller didn't make me what I am. I came to Fuller because I resonated with its attitude about... life. I've probably learned more about how to walk that line during my time here, but I was already there before I got here.<br /><br />Which brings me to my father. I am amazed at my dad, and more so with every passing year. I've learned to be open from my father. He is a man who is comfortable with contradictions, not in everything, but in some things.<br /><br />I'm speaking mainly about theological matters here. My dad can be doggedly stubborn about other things (I am like him in this as well), but when it comes to matters of God, my dad allows for mystery.<br /><br />A good example - My dad teaches the adult Sunday school class at my church back home. He has for years. I always look forward to going home and seeing what material he is using now because I just never know what it's going to be.<br /><br />My dad loves Rob Bell and the Nooma videos. In fact, my father introduced me to Rob Bell's teaching originally. He knew of Rob first and convinced me to pay attention. My dad is progressive like that.<br /><br />However, last time I was home, my dad was using a teaching series from John Piper on the five points of Calvinism in his Sunday school class. I raised my eyebrows when I discovered this on our way to church that morning in December, and my dad explained how he didn't really agree much with Piper, but he appreciated some of what Piper had to say, and he was open to the possibility that some of the way Piper knows God might be valuable to him.<br /><br />You see, one of the greatest things I've taken from my dad and mom is a deep trust in God. They really believe that God is good and that He is involved in our lives. They really believe that God loves us and is taking care of us. My father and mother live lives of real faith.<br /><br />My dad knows that God is waaaaaaay bigger than anything he'll ever be able to fully understand. My dad knows that some people understand God differently than he does, and so he seeks to learn to see what they see.<br /><br />My father is humble - humble enough to learn and, therefore, to teach. He has taught me with his life how to live in the tension, to accept the mystery, and to love others who I may not fully understand.<br /><br />Last night, I would have given just about anything to have my father with me, because last night, I got to meet Rob Bell.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/HDzmyFXFUrb0qfJnKQCklA?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3lxtW19qeKOA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSr7Mk3qG2oRV0mFT5dVlc5_UcJwjmF6Ma43qjlp5Aczcj-UKHv1uk5NuC7rJj4eNzCYb3iocTYLCqSMq3_8V8Pvap4ZbkVBkAw4SF9T8clFPluEJLkuvN0D4BFXs2PEu7YKQp0L5lsGg/s400/IMG_9159.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Riding the coattails of a Fuller professor and being blessed by his hospitality, I was able to go to the historic Wiltern theater in West L.A. to attend the L.A. stop of Rob's "Drops Like Stars" speaking tour.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VOxhwt8S8qAurw0583e7dQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3lxtW19qeKOA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0znxxIrKUlZ90fiKBu2vq_2a0_fEfKlKvnmjE3h6uyP-pVQ7dh8110-xfgrpmlT5MK0FCqnTQNqSyzRGTRbsw0oA5RbnwtesXFZSyJmza1EBi_I0ARIScXnVRCzaIXhO8wuB14WoKss/s400/IMG_9167.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I also received a backstage pass to meet Rob after the show.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/r-ueycp12loN0fAZF66hdA?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3lxtW19qeKOA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6v-jKRXkcZVGWmETi9OJKIYozjoYwjQV2XLYjDJguq70ZQJTFri8qeiupj0jV4pBa1Ttuq2YTerAFDymIzJOI505LfYKh1dDFKwntahfbYNUVcu-EMe9bwKoNxLxlmv_CwcL5BwoR_jo/s400/IMG_9153.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I didn't have time to really talk to Rob. I just shook his hand and got him to quickly pose for a picture.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VacdrEYVr4NkF66DYbKkTQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3lxtW19qeKOA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHxrAFfeJwJ_puOb-38k7gfqoDiUg7wjzMSHC_d-Zn016_M6elNlRF8V7qYGUjnMGJzq7Y_m4tS_4nnKWUq6R8GhcI784JS5VHAtxCnpw3QFDYLkv-m0Nh_gWu2E-O6MTkq2ro2jAfWY/s400/IMG_9168.JPG" /></a><br /><br />But had I had the time (and had it not been after midnight in Texas when the show was over), I would have told him about my father and asked him to make a quick phone call on my behalf.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-18444441642901026472010-02-18T12:33:00.000-08:002010-02-18T12:38:24.510-08:00Mission from Silence<span style="font-style:italic;">Below is the conclusion of my Spirituality and Mission paper.</span><br />______________________________<br /><br />•We live in a world that clamors for our attention making it extraordinarily difficult to remain in God’s presence<br /><br />•Centering prayer is a historically established means of focusing ourselves on Christ.<br /><br />•Centering prayer helps us enter into times of silence.<br /><br />•In silence we truly encounter God.<br /><br />•This silence looks different than we anticipate because it often feels at first like the absence of God.<br /><br />•It is in this silence that we become like Christ as we are faithful to God.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Reflection for Mission</span><br /><br />All mission comes out of identity, and my true identity is wrapped up in Christ. It is through the silence that I learn who I am. As I sit in God’s presence simply, without any other aim but being with God and resting in God’s presence, God speaks to me and directs me to action. God tells me who I am made to be.<br /><br />I’ve found over the past few months of walking through this “dark night of the soul” that as I rest, my Father asks me to trust Him, and He asks me to move out of hiding and into whatever He is calling me to. I cannot trust God sitting in my room. Trust requires action. Faith is movement.<br /><br />Currently, I am attending seminary and trying to discern God’s call on my life. I have hints and suspicions. God is confirming or rejecting those things daily, and God does this as I rest in God’s presence. How else can I know what God would have me do unless I learn to hear God’s voice? In the silence, I hear God speak.<br /><br />In the future, as I continue in mission in the Western world to middle-class men and women my age, living a life of sought silence will become increasingly important. I hope to model a life of listening to God to all I have the honor of being in ministry with. I will no doubt need constant direction and refilling of God’s strength. I will find those things as I rest in God’s silence. Centering prayer and silence will continue to be integral parts of my spirituality. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">My Rule of Life</span><br /><br />Everyday, before I leave for work and before I lay down again at night, I will spend time in silence with God.<br /><br />I will strive to learn to be content not with answers to my questions and doubts but with God’s presence. I will strive to sleep in the storm.<br /><br />I will use centering prayer throughout my day to bring myself back into focus on Christ.<br /><br />I will seek in all things in all moments to consider God.<br /><br />I will rest with Christ.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-2345936388586208532010-02-16T11:18:00.000-08:002010-02-16T11:20:17.046-08:00Silence<span style="font-style:italic;">Here is part two of my Spiritual Practices Essay</span><br />___________________________<br /><br />In Mark chapter four, the gospel writer retells the story of a stormy night upon the Sea of Galilee. The disciples and Jesus had left the crowd on the shore and were crossing over to the region of the Gerasenes. “A furious squall came up,” Mark records, and the boat begins to be flooded with water. The disciples - many of them experienced fishermen, I would add - fear for their lives. Meanwhile, Jesus is asleep in the stern. Waking him, they ask Jesus if he cares whether or not they drown. Jesus calms the storm before turning to rebuke his disciples for their lack of faith. At this even more so than the waves, they are terrified and begin to question amongst themselves who this Jesus might be.<br /><br />In the storm, Jesus is still. He is sleeping peacefully while the elements swirl around him. The disciples look to him, but they do not really see him, for they do not see his peace. Had they had the faith to dare to do so, they might have entered into his rest as the tempest raged. “Quiet! Be still,” Jesus commands, and I wonder if he wasn’t speaking as much to his disciples as he was to the waves.<br /><br />Remaining in God’s presence without ulterior motive is the aim of spiritual practice. We are made to be not to do (Jones 42). It is only when we are satisfied in Christ alone that we are truly satisfied. When we can rest in silence, we can truly rest.<br /><br />This modern generation yearns for silence (Jensen 217). We ache to disengage (Jones 38). Our lives are a consistent stream of status updates and text messages and email notifications. We are constantly connected, and while that can be a marvelous thing, it can also wear upon us because we never have a moment to contemplate who we are made to be. We are made to be loved by God. In silence, if we can find it, if we can be drawn up into it, we experience God’s love (Jones 41).<br /><br />The practice of silence is simply that – it is being silent before and with God. It is moving into a place where all questions cease, where all complaints are surrendered, and where all requests are fulfilled by God’s presence. Centering prayer, as previously discussed, is a valuable tool in achieving silence, but the truth is, it will not take us all the way. Only God can truly bring us to a place where we are satisfied alone with God, but rest assured, God wants us there.<br /><br />I have two main differences of opinion with other writers concerning silence. Most see silence as the entry point into the other disciplines (Tan 42, Jones 40). I see silence as the end goal of other disciplines. I hope to be satisfied wholly in being with Christ, not in being with him so that I can get direction for my life or answers to my questions. Silent communion with God is the goal.<br /><br />Secondly, while twenty to thirty minutes of silence is a good goal (Jensen 278), setting measurable quotas of silence reveals a misunderstanding of what silence is. Silence is not simply an escape from external stimuli, and it is not a quieting of one’s internal monologue. Silence is coming face to face with all one’s doubts and stresses and looking past them to God. Silence is lying with Christ in the stern of the ship in the middle of the storm. Silence is coming up against “I don’t know,” and allowing God’s shear presence to be enough.<br /><br />Silence is paramount for the Christian because silence is faithfulness in its purest form. As C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape writes to Wormwood, remaining in silence akin to “when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do [God’s] will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of [God] seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys” (39). Jesus knew this silence as he went into the wilderness and was tempted, emerging into his ministry (Mark 1:12-13). And of course, Christ greatest work was done in the silence of Gethsemane and in his forsakenness upon the cross (Mark 14:32-42, 15:34).<br /><br />It is this silence we aspire to, not the simple quieting of our world. In this silence we become like Christ, and from this silence, I believe, we, like Christ, will be resurrected.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">To be concluded...</span>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-48394774626883852882010-02-15T09:37:00.000-08:002010-02-15T09:49:46.590-08:00Centering Prayer<span style="font-style:italic;">Below is the first part of my recently written spiritual practices essay for my Spirituality and Mission class. I'll post the second and third parts tomorrow and Wednesday.<br /><br />I hope you enjoy taking a look at the sort of things I'm studying.</span><br />_________________________________<br /><br />Allow me to describe the sounds that surround me as I type this: Someone is vacuuming in one of the apartments near mine. Overhead, in the apartment above, my neighbor is walking to and fro, clomping noisily around their home. Cars and buses and delivery trucks rumble beneath my street-side balcony. The 210 hums in the not-too-distant distance. A siren whines. A child laughs. The pipes squeal as my neighbor bathes. The keyboard clicks beneath my fingertips. I live in a cacophony of sound.<br /><br />And this is only what is audible. Louder than the vacuums and buses are the questions that rattle about in my mind. “Does she like me?” “Will I have enough for this month’s bills?” “Will I make a decent grade on this paper?” “Should I find a new church?” “What will I eat for dinner?” “Is this relationship salvageable?” “What am I forgetting?” My mind constantly races with questions I cannot answer.<br /><br />In the middle of this din, we are urged to pray, to sit in silence and spend time with God. This seems impossible. We need a way to push back against the noise. We need a way to retreat without surrendering our lives. We need a way to calm our minds and forget for a moment the hubbub around us.<br /><br />Indeed, we are implored to do so by the biblical witness. Time and time again, we are entreated us to be still and remain with God. Elijah finds God not in the mighty wind, the fire, or the earthquake, but in the stillness (1 Kings 19:11-13). The psalmists encourage us again and again to rest in God (Psalm 23:2, 62:5, 131:2), and of course, Jesus frequents quiet, distraction-free places (Mark 1:35). “Separate yourself,” God seems to say, “and rest with me.”<br /><br />Centering prayer is means of doing just that. It is a method of focusing on Christ. It is a way to hear through the clamor and into the peace of God. We are a distracted and preoccupied people who are being pulled in a hundred different directions every moment (Rolheiser 32, Campolo 135). Practicing centering prayer pulls everything back in and points it to Christ.<br /><br />Centering prayer finds its origin in the disciplines of the desert fathers. As recorded by Cassian, centering prayer was used as a gateway to the contemplative (Jones 70, Campolo 133). As the Enlightenment overwhelmed the minds of later theologians and affective practices were denigrated, contemplative exercises including centering prayer fell out of fashion, but in the later half of the twentieth century, as the West was exposed to the spiritual practices of the East, and as the pace of life quickened, centering prayer was rediscovered by a new generation (Jones 72). Once again, centering prayer is an accepted, and arguably integral, practice of Christian spirituality.<br /><br />The method is simple. One must latch on to a word or phrase and pray that word or phrase quietly to oneself, focusing on it and letting all other distractions fade away. Words like “love” or “grace” or “Christ” are common. As one is calmed and silenced, the prayer may cease, but the word is always there ready to be prayed again whenever distractions begin to press in again.<br /><br />In my experience with this practice, I have come to three conclusions that differ with the authors I’ve read. First of all, I do not find it beneficial to pray only a single word, and I do not find the same phrase to always be beneficial. Instead, I find greater value in altering my phrase to match whatever struggle is currently preoccupying me. For instance, lately, I’ve been praying this phrase, “Lord God Almighty, I will rest in you.” My current struggle is with resting in God’s sovereignty over my life. Simply praying “trust,” for example, would not carry with it the reminder that I am resting in God’s sovereign nature. As the worries of life assail my quiet, I return to the phrase and am reminded once again of God’s place in my anxiety.<br /><br />Second, while I find it beneficial to set aside twenty or so minutes a day for this practice, I also find that centering prayer is valuable in the midst of my day. When I am at work and things get a little stressful, I can briefly practice centering prayer and quickly find myself back at a place of peace. I believe that this ability has been developed in extended periods of prayer, but there’s no reason it must stay in my closet.<br /><br />Finally, unlike other authors, I do not think that centering prayer is an end unto itself. Instead, I find that it ushers me into a place of silence where I can meet with God. Yes, centering prayer does succeed in pushing back the distractions, but once they are removed, God is all that is left. If we only pray a centering prayer, we’ve stopped half-way on the road to communion with God.<br /><br />This brings me to the second practice I’d like to examine – silence.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">To be continued...</span>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-538432715663799182010-02-12T08:00:00.000-08:002010-02-12T08:00:08.745-08:00The Church of Apple<span style="font-style:italic;">I posted this yesterday on <a href="http://www.brehmcenter.com/brehm-blog/the-church-of-apple/">the Brehm Blog</a>. (Perhaps you noticed the link on the right side of the screen.) It's caused a little stir among my friends and their friends.<br /><br />My friend Chris responded to it on <a href="http://chrishokanson.tumblr.com/post/383877379/is-the-iphone-for-consumption-or-production">his tumblr page</a> and linked to it on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/chrishokanson?v=feed&story_fbid=10100212157526494&ref=nf">Facebook</a>. I encourage you to check out his comments and others' and to interact.</span><br />__________________________<br /><br />Please excuse this post that will possibly wreak of consumerism. I don't write about purchases ever. So much of my identity is wrapped up in the things I own, and I don't think that's right, so I don't encourage that side of me. Still, we do live in a consumerist kingdom, and I think it's important for us to consider how to best live as citizen of the Kingdom of Heaven under the auspices of a tyrant.<br /><br />That being said...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazingtechproducts.com/files/products/apple_fifth_ave_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 237px;" src="http://www.amazingtechproducts.com/files/products/apple_fifth_ave_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I love my Mac.<br /><br />During my final year of college, I was steadily indoctrinated to the wonders of Apple by my friend and roommate Patrick. He effused about Macs daily and even threw a little party when he bought his first Macbook. When I purchased my first computer a half-year later, I never considered any other brand. I've never regretted it.<br /><br />I am a oft-times too eager disciple of Apple. I have owned two iPods since converting, buying a second one after my first one broke. Now, that's loyalty. I think the company makes dependable products that are aesthetically pleasing. I don't ask for much else.<br /><br />However, though I daily partake of the goodness of my Macbook and my iPod, I have yet to complete the holy trinity of Apple products - I do not own an iPhone, and I don't think I ever will. Allow me to explain why.<br /><br />An iPhone is not simply a phone, as all the users will readily attest and as the advertisements affirm. An iPhone is a mobile connection device. An iPhone is an email-sending, Facebook-checking, Twittering, GPSing, video game-playing computer that fits in your pocket. And it makes phone calls.<br /><br />It's kind of awesome.<br /><br />iPhones are the future come to the present.<br /><br />In May, my friends Patrick, Jon, and I were driving through nowhere Wyoming, and Jon and I got into an argument about how to pronounce a word. After a few minutes of going back and forth, we decided to pull up an online dictionary on Jon's iPhone, pipe the audio through his truck speakers, and have the internet settle our argument. While driving 80 mph through the middle of nowhere, we had a computer correctly pronounce a word for us.<br /><br />If that's not the future, I don't know what is. As my professor Barry Taylor said, with an iPhone, one has the collected knowledge of all humankind in the palm of one's hand.<br /><br />That's crazy cool, but as awesome as the iPhone is, it's not enough. It's almost enough, but it's not quite there.<br /><br />Because an iPhone is so much more than a phone, I need it to do a little more than it does. I need my mobile connection device to allow me to write and upload to the internet at any time from practically anywhere (within reason). An iPhone is great for interacting with what has been created, but it's almost useless for creating.<br /><br />The iPhone is a consumption device. It helps one consume media of all kinds (and it makes phone calls). It does not help one produce anything. Allowing me access to the internet is one thing; allowing me to alter it is another. Putting the collected knowledge of humankind in the palm of my hand changes <span style="font-style:italic;">my</span> world; allowing me to add my knowledge to that of humankind changes the whole world.<br /><br />When Apple builds that device, they'll likely get my money.<br /><br />The iPad might be that device. I'm not really sure yet. I need to play with one first. We'll see. I think it's at least a step in the right direction.<br /><br />In any case, the iPhone and its deficiencies exemplify a key component of our society. We truly live in a culture of consumption. Almost everything is oriented to encourage us to buy. Remember after 9/11 when President Bush gave his speech from Ground Zero? Remember how he suggested Americans should cope with the tragedy and fight back against the terrorists? He told us to go shopping. How does our government combat a recession? It mails us checks and asks us to spend, spend, spend. How do I cope with a particularly stressful week? I go to the Apple Store and look at all the things I could buy if I really wanted to.<br /><br />Consuming equals peace-making. The iPhone is so popular in part because it is an excellent means of being a good citizen of the kingdom of Consumerism.<br /><br />But the kingdom is evolving, and my problems with the iPhone are indicative of that evolution. As another of my professors, Ryan Bolger, points out, we are moving into an equal parts consumption-production culture. Photoshop, Garage Band, Final Cut Pro, YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Wikipedia, Noisetrade, blogs, etc. - these are tools for production and outlets for what is being produced. The consumers of cultural artifacts are becoming the producers of those artifacts. Our society is morphing into one of both consumption and creation. We are defining ourselves both by what we consume and what we create.<br /><br />As a student of worship, theology, and art, I must ask what that means for the church. Here are a few brief thoughts:<br /><br />I think people will be less and less willing to simply sit and take from those in leadership. People are going to want to have input not just in big decisions but in definitions and dogmas as well. People are going to want to help form worship instead of just forming themselves to it. This will be challenging for church leadership because it will take a great deal of discernment to know when to insist on certain tenants and practices and when to bend. We must learn to better listen to God and to each other as more and more voices clamor to be heard.<br /><br />I actually find this to be a very exciting time. When I read Jesus and the apostles' descriptions of the ideal church in the New Testament letters (by the way, none of the actual New Testament period churches were ideal), I see a nonhierarchical, highly interactive church where everyone is a valued part of the body bringing individual gifts and no one is left out.<br /><br />Will we get there in our generation? No. Will we get closer? I hope so. I think the history of the Church is one of being conformed more and more to the likeness of Christ. I don't think the Church was closest to right in the first century and that we've just been getting more and more corrupted as time has gone by. I think God has been sanctifying His Son's Bride for two thousand years, and I think that one day we will be made perfect.<br /><br />And if I have to get an iPhone or iPad to be better prepared to help us get there, so be it.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-40933451424276575552010-02-11T08:00:00.000-08:002010-02-11T08:00:07.997-08:00Many Waters<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.artheaven.info/sk/noahs-ark-mural/noahs-ark-mural.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.artheaven.info/sk/noahs-ark-mural/noahs-ark-mural.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Noah was a drunk.<br /><br />It's one of the strangest stories in Genesis, in my opinion. Noah and his family walk off the ark, God makes a covenant with Noah promising to never destroy the earth via flood again, and then Noah gets wasted like a college freshman away from the watchful eyes of his parents for the first time.<br /><br />What happens next is even more odd. Noah lies drunk and naked in his tent, and his sons react in different ways to his nakedness, resulting in the middle son being cursed by his father. I'm not even going to go into all that right now. I just want to consider for a moment why Noah's first act after getting off the ark is to plant a vineyard, make wine, and drink himself unconscious.<br /><br />I honestly don't <span style="font-style:italic;">know</span> why he does this, but I have a guess.<br /><br />Imagine the world post-flood. The waters rose and destroyed every earth-bound life on the planet that wasn't held inside Noah's ark. For just under a year the waters covered the earth, and then they receded. What do you suppose was left behind?<br /><br />Do you think the earth was washed clean? Do you think everything sparkled like a bathroom at the end of a Tilex commercial when Noah and crew emerged from the ark?<br /><br />I don't.<br /><br />I imagine the land was strewn with dead and decomposing bodies. I imagine fish-nibbled carcasses of every animal you can imagine littered the hills in the vicinity of the ark's resting place. As Noah traveled from that place, I imagine he passed sun-bloated bodies of people he'd known before the flood. I imagine the earth stunk. I imagine the sound of the flies alone could keep Noah up at night.<br /><br />I think I would have wanted a drink too. I would have wanted to drink to forget the sounds of the screams of terror Noah undoubtedly heard from inside his boat as the waters rose. I would have wanted to wash the stench of a rotting world from my nostrils. God may have promised to never flood the world again, but I think I would have wanted to flood my senses with alcohol to escape the horror of the world around me.<br /><br />If ever a man deserved a drink, it was Noah then.<br /><br />But he shouldn't have gotten drunk.<br /><br />I don't condone drunkenness, and I certainly don't mean to promote drinking to escape one's problems. Alcohol has taken its toll on the lives of too many of my friends and family members. Without maturity and moderation, alcohol is as corrosive an agent on our society as exists.<br /><br />Drunkenness is wrong.<br /><br />Noah should <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> have gotten drunk. The effects of his drunkenness were dire and far reaching. His subsequent, and I imagine, hangover-influenced curse of his middle son was used to unjustifiably legitimize slavery for thousands of years. After this incident, Noah's contribution to the Biblical narrative ends.<br /><br />I empathize with Noah in the post-flood waste, but he reacted wrongly. Perhaps he forgot God's promise - "Never again will all life be cut off by the waters of a flood." Perhaps Noah failed to look up and see God's sign of love stretched colorfully across the sky. Perhaps Noah let sorrow and grief overwhelm him. Perhaps he succumbed to a flood of depression and sank beneath its waves.<br /><br />This world can be a gruesome place. As we walk through life, we are surrounded by the results of the Fall all the time. We have not the strength to bury it. We have not the fire to burn it. We must hold it ever in view. Our memories, blessings though they may be, can be a bane. For every kind word and kiss upon the cheek we recall, there is an insult and a slap following close behind.<br /><br />Life is not easy to live, but we have hope.<br /><br />The God of love has covenanted with us to never abandon us. He has written his promise upon the sky. He has proclaimed it raised upon a cross and proved it risen from the grave. His love is the deep truth behind and under everything. "Many waters cannot quench it; neither can floods drown it." (Song of Solomon 8:7 - Thanks, Nicole.)<br /><br />This world and our lives are not made to be destroyed. They are created to endure. Death does its worst to take out lives and degrade the earth, but God is always at work for our salvation. What is love but a constant attempt to hold on to the things that were never meant to pass away?<br /><br />And this love has already won.<br /><br />We've no need to drown our sorrows in alcohol. We've no reason to lay exposed before death's horrors. We've no call for despair.<br /><br />Love has already won. The Covenant is established. The rainbow is bright up in the sky.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/29/53461221_29459c3549.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/29/53461221_29459c3549.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-44128315708662258012010-02-10T08:38:00.001-08:002010-02-10T13:46:56.846-08:00Surprise!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLK9KqjMqRmK_DkqnsWOIcp7UFUF_pE8aNRO18Fgp4URGiFBheeAvXdRTdTIFireF7uTin3THLcrfLQsQ6RfX5YCBVB27GjeQbH69oIt2QKjZRxnCyetF-jgAQSGKyWJJsmuAumnDmsI/s1600-h/kbbq1043.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLK9KqjMqRmK_DkqnsWOIcp7UFUF_pE8aNRO18Fgp4URGiFBheeAvXdRTdTIFireF7uTin3THLcrfLQsQ6RfX5YCBVB27GjeQbH69oIt2QKjZRxnCyetF-jgAQSGKyWJJsmuAumnDmsI/s320/kbbq1043.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436655130043818866" /></a>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-89432446362385783962010-02-08T10:00:00.000-08:002010-02-08T11:25:12.652-08:00HomesickMy friends Tim and Luke are currently living in Prague teaching English.<br /><br />The Prague that is in Europe.<br /><br />I'm a little jealous, and they constantly post pictures on their respective blogs. Recently, Luke posted about where he hopes to spend the summer.<br /><br />Switzerland. Of course. Where else?<br /><br />He posted a few pictures which prompted me to look up more pictures of Lake Geneva, Switzerland. Here's one:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ladyfi.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/chateau-de-chillon-lake-geneva-switzerland1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://ladyfi.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/chateau-de-chillon-lake-geneva-switzerland1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />This pictures and others like it made my heart hurt, not so much because I want to go there so badly (though I wouldn't object if someone was eager to send me), but because it reminded me of someplace else:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/p3keCEM8KVVaDykCbBX65A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/S1Zysxr1LAI/AAAAAAAADnc/lFeZXW3A_80/s400/IMG_1048_3.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Yep. That's my hotel in Many Glacier. I miss it.<br /><br />Weekly.<br /><br />A place can get inside you. I was there for four months, and at the time, that seemed like forever. It doesn't seem so long anymore. I've been here in Pasadena for a year and four months and that seems like no time at all. It's scary how time speeds up as you get older.<br /><br />I want so badly to go back to Glacier. People often ask me which is the best National Park I've visited. I don't like to give straight answers about anything, and I don't want to discourage people from visiting every park, so I always explain that there's something special about every park I've been to, and each is great in its own way. This past weekend when I was in Death Valley I decided I'd stop giving that answer. From now on when anyone asks me which park is best, I'm going to say, "Glacier." There's no place like it. It holds and always will hold a very special place in my heart. Even the much lauded Yosemite Valley is no match to Glacier, no matter what John Muir said.<br /><br />On the first night of one of my classes this quarter, they asked us where "home" is. I gave three answers: Valley View, TX, because that's where I grew up and where my family lives; Pasadena, CA, because it's the only place I've lived besides Valley View that's ever felt like home; and Glacier National Park, MT, because part of my heart will always rest there.<br /><br />One day, I'll go back. One day, I'll go home.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-78349325975853261132010-02-04T12:20:00.000-08:002010-02-04T12:26:56.296-08:00A Letter To My Younger Self<span style="font-style:italic;">Today, I thought I'd write a letter to my younger self. I started writing the letter, and, were such correspondence possible, below is all I really think I'd want to say.<br /><br />It's all he needs to know. It's all I want him to know.</span><br />_________________________________________<br /><br />Dear Younger Elijah,<br /><br />It's all going to be ok.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Current ElijahElijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-47080119857292106262010-02-02T08:33:00.000-08:002010-02-02T10:15:32.232-08:00A Good DayFirst of all:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/arxfLK_sd68&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/arxfLK_sd68&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Secondly:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://watchlostseason6.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Lost-Season-6-Poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 621px;" src="http://watchlostseason6.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Lost-Season-6-Poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(WOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!)<br /><br />And thirdly:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.instantcast.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/oscars-732859.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 621px;" src="http://blog.instantcast.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/oscars-732859.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(6 of my top 7 favorite movies of the year were nominated for Best Picture. Only <span style="font-style: italic;">Fantastic Mr. Fox</span> didn't make the list.)<br /><br />And speaking of movies, my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Up in the Air</span> was published in <a href="http://www.rabbitroom.com/">The Rabbit Room</a> yesterday. I am so very honored to be featured there. <a href="http://www.rabbitroom.com/?p=5939">Go check it out.</a><br /><br />This is a good day.<br /><br />P.S. <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90133974">This "This I Believe"</a> from NPR is excellent.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-89701025497470945912010-02-01T07:55:00.000-08:002010-02-01T08:13:55.496-08:00The Communion of the Wayward Rocket<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://velo-retro.com/VRPasadena.jpg/RoseBowl.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 375px;" src="http://velo-retro.com/VRPasadena.jpg/RoseBowl.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We were all in it together. I was probably the least member of the brotherhood at the time, but I'm trying to make up for it now. This retelling of the incident is my contribution. I will unstick the other three from the flow of time and memorialize them in prose. I will make them immortal.<br /><br />In a sense, they are immortal already. Their relationships to one another are timeless. As they each drove into the Rose Bowl parking lot that morning, they entered into the realm of myth. They became emblems, types, symbols. Actually, they became the things the symbols point to.<br /><br />I was wearing rollerblades, listening to my iPod, and careening around the almost empty parking lot.<br /><br />I had been there for a while when the first vehicle drove up and parked. It was a black Toyota Tacoma that looked like it had seen its share of off-roading. The man or woman inside parked his or her truck along the edge of the asphalt just beside the fence that keeps people out of the drainage channel that bisects the lot. He or she rolled his or her windows down and didn't get out of his or her truck. I'm still not sure why he or she was there. I never actually saw his or her face.<br /><br />A short time later, after I had made numerous circuits around the stadium, an old, beat up, rusted Ford Metro rolled noisily into the lot and parked near both my car and the Tacoma. A large man got out wearing wind pants, a sweatshirt, and wrap around sunglasses that cast color like an oil slick in the morning sun. He walked around to the passenger side and helped his son get out of the car. The boy was so small I hadn't noticed him riding shotgun. He couldn't have been older than three. He was wearing wind pants and a sweatshirt like his father. I watched them for a moment and then took off to make another lap around the stadium.<br /><br />I was lost in thought, and my headphones were doing a good job of drowning out almost all ambient noises as I made my way leisurely back toward my car. As I neared, I heard a hissing sound from the back of the Metro. I looked quickly over to see a rocket shoot up into the air. I looked over to see the father and the son with their faces turned upward watching the rocket. I looked back up just in time to see the rocket pop and a parachute emerge from its tail. The spent rocket began to float lazily back to the earth.<br /><br />The father and son, the man or woman in the Tacoma, and I all watched it together.<br /><br />It drifted to the West and fell without magnificence behind the fence on the concrete embankment skirting the edge of the drainage channel. The four of us felt a twinge of despair for the injustice, and the three of us old enough to know let out small sighs in recognition of the world working as we have come to learn it works.<br /><br />And we all four immediately began to think of how to make this right.<br /><br />I fished my car key out of my pocket in a motion to shirk my rollerblades for my tennis shoes to climb into the ditch to get the rocket. The father put the wire launch pad back in his trunk and walked with his little boy over to the fence to look for a way in. The man or woman in the truck called out to the father to tell him where a gap in the fence could be found a little ways to the North. I closed my car door, content to be an observer, as the father and son began their trek North to the opening in the fence that would enable them to retrieve their wayward toy.<br /><br />They held hands as they walked.<br /><br />I followed at a distance, recording their odyssey in my mind for later retelling.<br /><br />They crossed the footbridge that connected the two halves of the parking lot. They descended into the channel.<br /><br />I stopped in the middle of the bridge to watch them walk and worried for them because they were on the wrong side of the water. I almost called out to them to warn them of their mistake. Before I could, I saw the father raise his son in his arms and carry him through the rushing stream. (The water only played around the soles of his tennis shoes.)<br /><br />I skated along the opposite bank as they walked down to their fallen rocket. The father let loose his son's hand, and the small boy began to run as they neared the toy. The lad scooped it up and held it out for his father to take. The father leaned down and began to show the boy how to rewind and repack the parachute into the rocket's body.<br /><br />I made another lap around the parking lot so as not to intrude upon their moment together.<br /><br />They hiked back up the arroyo, climbed up the slick, concrete embankment, and made their way back toward their car. As I passed them, I smiled and waved in deference to the father who smiled from behind his sunglasses and waved back.<br /><br />When I returned to my car to leave, the father and son were setting up to launch their rocket again.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-52854886168364579822010-01-29T16:32:00.000-08:002010-01-29T16:34:55.278-08:00TGIFThis little kid reminds me of someone...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tCHN8zNdhsQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tCHN8zNdhsQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-27954262518764885362010-01-27T07:30:00.000-08:002010-01-27T08:01:26.200-08:00To KnowThe heaviest things I carry are questions.<br /><br />Ponderings.<br /><br />Theories.<br /><br />Explanations.<br /><br />My never ending attempt to understand everything weighs upon me like nothing else.<br /><br />I can't quiet my mind. It races, analyzing every little detail of every aspect of my life. I try to look into every interaction, every occurrence, every life episode. I parse conversations for hidden meanings. I mentally interrogate both the intentions of others and myself. I replay my days again and again and again and again searching for missed details that might unlock anything remotely confusing.<br /><br />I am consumed with a desire <span style="font-style:italic;">to know</span>.<br /><br />I used to write two Bible verses on the covers of all my books in high school: Jeremiah 33:3 and John 16:14. Jeremiah 33:3 reads, "Call to me [God], and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." John 16:14, in reference to the Holy Spirit, says, "He will bring glory to me [Jesus] by taking from what is mine and making it known to you."<br /><br />I used to pray those verses before every test. If I came to an answer I didn't know, I'd quote those verses both to myself and God before attempting to answer.<br /><br />Another verse I love is 1 Corinthians 13:12 which, after confessing that knowledge now is incomplete, reads, "[In eternity] I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."<br /><br />I want to know fully.<br /><br />But I don't know fully, and I can't know fully, not yet (as Paul confirms in the first part of 1 Cor 13:12), and this aggravates me to no end.<br /><br />The thing that I desire to understand more than all other things is God. I want to know what He is up to in the world and in my life. Honestly, I'd settle for knowing what He's up to in my life. In fact, that's probably my chief pursuit. That's my big question. "What are you doing with me, God!?! Where is this leading!?! Is there any point!?!"<br /><br />With regards to specific episodes, I question, "What was the use in that, God? What are you accomplishing in my life through that?" I believe that He works good in all things in my life as I follow Him. I believe that He is working to make me holy. I believe that He is benevolent. (There's a whole lot of theology in those three statements.) I don't believe that He lets life be random; I think He redeems the random. I don't believe that He is ambivalent toward me; I believe He loves me and is in intimate relationship with me. I believe He has purpose and plan.<br /><br />But most of the time I can't see it. I don't understand it. I don't know what He's doing.<br /><br />That question is probably a big part of what drove me to seminary, honestly. I came here to know God better, and I came here to better know His plan for my life. Of course, the longer I'm here the more I realize I don't know anything, and since I've been here I think He's been trying to get me to a place where I give up trying to know.<br /><br />Jesus invites me to lay my burdens down, and my chief burdens are not relationships or injustices or wounds or external stresses of any kind. My chief burden is my desire <span style="font-style:italic;">to know</span>. My constant questioning pushes upon me and comes between Christ and me. I am kept from stealing away in the quiet with Christ like I wrote about on Monday, because I can't shut up.<br /><br />In the depths of my heart my desire is to rest in Christ. I want absolutely nothing more than to remain still with Him. I want His presence. I want to be satisfied fully in Him.<br /><br />To do so, I have to rest my questions. I have to let them remain unanswered. I have to let His invitation to trust Him satisfy me.<br /><br />It's hard. I'm trying.<br /><br />Pray for me.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-72165585697211876092010-01-26T11:21:00.000-08:002010-01-26T13:35:23.355-08:00The Smart Young ManAs the Teacher continued on his way, a young man ran up to him, fell at his feet, and exclaimed, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"<br /><br />"Why do you call me good?" the Teacher answered smiling, "Only God is good. Be like God. Honor all the commandments. Act justly. Be merciful. Love righteousness."<br /><br />"I do. I have. I am," the young man said, "Since I was a little boy I have followed God. I have made it my daily aim to honor and glorify Him in every aspect of my life. I've tried to see and do what He is doing. I have run hard after Him."<br /><br />The Teacher considered him and loved him.<br /><br />"One thing you lack," the Teacher said, "Give up all your questions. Quit trying to understand God. Stop trying to <span style="font-style:italic;">know</span>."<br /><br />At this, the young man's face fell. He walked sadly away, because he was very intelligent.<br /><br />"How hard it is for the very smart to enter the Kingdom of God," the Teacher mused, "Thankfully, with God all things are possible."Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-71171574481942747392010-01-25T07:00:00.000-08:002010-01-25T07:00:00.888-08:00Hard To GetMy God is always trying to get away. He runs to the secret place, the wilderness, the mountainside. He sneaks into town, and then He sneaks out again. He gets up in the middle of the night and slips out of his friend's houses. He takes midnight strolls upon the lake because perhaps it's the only place he can be alone. God runs. God sneaks. God slips. God hides. My God plays hard to get.<br /><br />He wants to spend time with His friends. He wants to rest with those closest to Him. He wants to pour into them and explain things to them about the world and teach them how to live well. He wants close intimate time with His followers.<br /><br />But the crowds keep crowding. The masses amass. They clamor for my God's attention, and He hears them. He sees them. And He loves them. His heart goes out to them, and He cannot leave them. He heals them. He soothes them. He loves them.<br /><br />And then he tells them, "Shhhhhhh. Let's keep this between you and Me." Is this a request for secrecy, or is it an offer of intimacy? Can't it be both?<br /><br />My God retreats. "Come with me," He says, "Let us rest."<br /><br />I find that so hard to do. I want to push onward. I want to accomplish and achieve. I want to obtain things. I want to make things happen. I get excited and expectant. I want it all now.<br /><br />"My kingdom," my God says, "Is like a farmer who scatters seeds, and then whether he sleeps or wakes, the plants grow. On their own, they sprout and mature and ripen. And then the farmer harvests the fruit."<br /><br />I don't want to wait. I glimpse the seedling pushing up from the earth, and I want to pluck it immediately. I want to coax it along. I want it to bear fruit <span style="font-style:italic;">now</span>. I try to pour fertilizer and water and light on the plant, and I end up poisoning and drowning and burning it.<br /><br />"Whether you wake or sleep," my God says, "It grows. Wait until the time is ripe for harvest."<br /><br />"Rest with Me," He says.<br /><br />I'm trying to rest. I'm trying to retreat with my Savior. I'm trying to trust Him, to let the ground produce its fruit. I'm trying to believe that harvest time will come.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Maranatha!</span> Come, Lord Jesus!<br /><br />And until then, help me rest with You.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-37071751692778269232010-01-21T07:34:00.000-08:002010-01-21T07:34:00.592-08:00My 2009 Year-End PlaylistTuesday night, I completed a yearly tradition. I created my 2009 year defining playlist.<br /><br />I've been doing this since 2007, I (try to) follow three rules in making my playlist: 1) It has to be made up of songs I heard for the first time in the previous year, 2) the songs have to flow thematically with my year, and 3) they have to flow musically (The playlist has to be pleasant to listen to).<br /><br />Quite often, my favorite songs from the past year don't make the cut. Some do, but many don't. It's more important that the list reflect the emotional journey of my year than it reflect my favorite songs from that year. This isn't really that big of a deal, because I'm not really the type who listens to single songs over and over and over again.<br /><br />I like albums. I like songs in context. I'll listen to single albums on repeat continually for weeks at a time, but I don't really do that with songs. As a result, songs are most often couched in the context of their surrounding songs on a recorded work. They only kind of exist independently for me. So, pulling a song out of an album for a playlist is kind of like creating a new album entirely. Each song takes on a whole new meaning when surrounded by totally different songs.<br /><br />Songs from my favorite albums don't always necessarily make the list either. In fact, the more I like an album, the harder it is for me to pull songs off of it to put on the new playlist. The songs on that album seem to belong together. I hate to divorce them from their compatriots. For instance, in 2007, Derek Webb's <span style="font-style:italic;">The Ringing Bell</span> was far and away my favorite album of the year, but no songs off that album made the cut. I just couldn't separate them from their friends.<br /><br />This year's list is particularly interesting because I didn't really latch on to a lot of music this past year. I really only listened to three albums obsessively, and I didn't listen to a lot else that was new. I didn't buy any new music for the first three months of the year, and then I listened to Jars of Clay's <span style="font-style:italic;">The Long Fall Back To Earth</span> for about three months straight. Then I listened to Derek Webb's <span style="font-style:italic;">Stockholm Syndrome</span> for the next three months. I spent December listening almost solely to Switchfoot's <span style="font-style:italic;">Hello, Hurricane</span>. A few other albums slipped in here and there, but not many.<br /><br />In any case, I made my playlist, and I'm very pleased with how it turned out. As usual, a few songs I wasn't expecting at all made the list, and a few I thought for sure would make it didn't.<br /><br />I also cheated a little. I included a song that I first heard in 2008, but I just had to. It is so perfect, and in its defense, none of the songs from its album made the 2008 list even though it was my second favorite album from that year.<br /><br />Without further ado, here's the list:<br /><br />1) "Good, Good End" - Waterdeep, <span style="font-style:italic;">Heart Attack Time Machine</span><br />2) "When the Summer's Gone" - Sandra McCracken, <span style="font-style:italic;">Live Under Lights and Wires</span><br />3) "There Might Be A Light" - Jars of Clay, <span style="font-style:italic;">The Long Fall Back To Earth</span><br />4) "I Love/Hate You" (acoustic) - Derek Webb, originally on <span style="font-style:italic;">Stockholm Syndrome</span> (How I have an acoustic version is a mystery.)<br />5) "Betrayal" - Fiction Family, <span style="font-style:italic;">Fiction Family</span><br />6) "Sympathy For Jesus" - The Khrusty Brothers, <span style="font-style:italic;">Jonas Is Back</span> (This is the song I had to cheat to include.)<br />7) "You Will Always Hurt" - Lori Chaffer, <span style="font-style:italic;">1beginning</span><br />8) "Yet" - Switchfoot, <span style="font-style:italic;">Hello, Hurricane</span><br />9) "Mohave Phone Booth" - David Mead, <span style="font-style:italic;">Almost and Always</span><br />10) "Changes Come" - Over the Rhine, <span style="font-style:italic;">Ohio</span><br />11) "How He Loves" - David Crowder* Band, <span style="font-style:italic;">Church Songs</span><br /><br />A few observations: The two biggest surprises to me are the inclusion of "Betrayal" and "Changes Come." I don't really know either of these songs very well, though both of their albums did receive copious listening at various points during the year. Theses two songs are just too perfect though. I was having trouble completing this list before I found them.<br /><br />If you know any of the finer details of my 2009, you understand the deep irony of my including "When the Summer's Gone." I essentially changed the meaning of the song by putting it on the list.<br /><br />"Sympathy For Jesus," like I wrote above, is just too perfect for the space it fills on the playlist, but even if it was less perfect, I might have had to include it anyway just to include the line that begins its second verse: "'I appreciate your kind,' he said, and then Jesus poured a drink. Well, my face must have looked kind of funny because he said, 'It's not like you think....'"<br /><br />It's also kind of eerie how well "There Might Be A Light," "You Will Always Hurt," and "Yet" fit within my year. It's like their respective songwriters were looking over my shoulder and writing based on my life. Music is awesome in that way.<br /><br />To close, I highly recommend sitting down and processing through your previous year. You probably won't want to make a playlist like me, but I bet there's something you could do to work through and make meaning from what happened in your recent past.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-27295573977595911222010-01-20T07:03:00.000-08:002010-01-20T07:03:00.743-08:00Ye Though I Walk Through the Valley...Why were You always running off to lonely places?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gqezNSnMpI_5fS9Xxcy9qQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXbg9tRFI/AAAAAAAAAag/0tPN9VlpPo0/s400/IMG_9062.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I wanted to see who would follow.</span><br /><br /><br />Don't You desire all?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/or_YRoEEi4NARqbXjlZNiw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXCmK9JbI/AAAAAAAAAaE/2AHjh8qqF60/s400/IMG_9047.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I do, but I desire all <span style="font-weight:bold;">to come</span>.</span><br /><br /><br />And You never say anything plain?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/axi5_u_hHP6trtkyo47zmg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UUKhv3PjI/AAAAAAAAAXY/TIrXzQu9iEw/s400/IMG_8836.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The greatest things can never be explained.</span><br /><br /><br />Sometimes You seem so silent.<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kN76flPXS6EWCEouQFJ2XQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UT8_mQBSI/AAAAAAAAAXE/o0annJGJ1jQ/s400/IMG_8784.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">You are confusing absence and peace.</span><br /><br /><br />Did You know You'd have to die?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/LG4w3Hb1rKycMayTxiQVDw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UUBkdk48I/AAAAAAAAAXI/sZk5sFh2lfM/s400/IMG_8795.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Everyone dies.</span><br /><br /><br />Me too?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1aJt6np5KP5fCxGUspPEcg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UV6yW0TuI/AAAAAAAAAZI/5KFyhmLLMfM/s400/IMG_8970.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br />Did You give Your life, or was it taken from You?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/fNs0Tdv3TNKzGhHkIhKOPg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UW5u8iEZI/AAAAAAAAAaA/rxHtZF1Wnos/s400/IMG_9034.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I give and take away.</span><br /><br /><br />Will You take mine?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/n7kCC7xUJrVXjV6PNJgZGA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXv-J_wtI/AAAAAAAAAa4/8UOCW3HJ9jc/s400/IMG_9082.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Would you rather someone else have it?</span><br /><br /><br />Why are You tearing me apart?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Dl0TpvIUrGiuZLH7RIUXmg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXsjs8QLI/AAAAAAAAAa0/6Ussb-8wM50/s400/IMG_9081.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I want your heart.</span><br /><br /><br />Is there no other way?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Pf1Y69Qe7-3gJPFOX8LzHA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UUcVn6lLI/AAAAAAAAAXs/KfJhpqxJjX0/s400/IMG_8873.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I am the Way.</span><br /><br /><br />When will this be done?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/BtovdKzc4ea0DxOaezkSfw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXz7T2kbI/AAAAAAAAAbA/YPrecf-wAI0/s400/IMG_9085.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">It is finished.</span><br /><br /><br />What are You doing?<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VRPHD6GlF9OeRr4VnzEc0Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UT2_ekKnI/AAAAAAAAAW8/zAnILQRTbJk/s400/IMG_8777.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I'm turning boasts into confessions.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Qo85TvJJc3-IiFDFmSbFQw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXkhqLMrI/AAAAAAAAAas/tXUl4uD6qSA/s400/IMG_9078.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I'm turning certainties into faith.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xMsFJDTcaNktPHsRom86Mg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UUskoNzqI/AAAAAAAAAYA/m_1Ok29_6UU/s400/IMG_8894.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I'm putting everything to rest.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KdItn8lH7mXM4GdexmH5Jw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UUx00dAjI/AAAAAAAAAYI/syt-COl-dQA/s400/IMG_8903.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Rest</span>.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1uwNSCzJbOamoTiJWs-FTg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UVHBgePhI/AAAAAAAAAYY/l2ARI7SDp3Y/s400/IMG_8928.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Rest</span>.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mx_KuDMg9N3UBg7A8AcKCw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UVMwB_v8I/AAAAAAAAAYg/wQtGSYk5B5U/s400/IMG_8938.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Let your doubts fall in my arms, and rest.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/u2dgzA2KGlWjt_s9JueXsg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UVR4BAdfI/AAAAAAAAAYk/1tHm1BQYDBs/s400/IMG_8939.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">You will awake anew.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Cd9S5xoLWGh_Z3fbFdhkoQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UXTxp_KDI/AAAAAAAAAac/-pLDEtZLtvQ/s400/IMG_9061.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I am making all things new.</span>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-41189486105798056562010-01-19T08:00:00.000-08:002010-01-19T08:02:29.201-08:00The (Not So) Obligatory PhotosPatrick calls this the obligatory "Elijah standing in front of breathtaking scenery photo."<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9BHYfZld5IPT9_NCAjnLFw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/STIPeu9LPAI/AAAAAAAABIo/sgaphdJ4Lzo/s400/IMG_1557.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And justifiably so. That <span style="font-style:italic;">is</span> me standing in front of breathtaking scenery. I've got a bunch of photos like this one from LOTS of different parks.<br /><br />That first one is Glacier, and so's this one:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Qzj_KROy3pEKF0mKaCsWOA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/SrcgeLOOdkI/AAAAAAAADE4/MJGv6i_6BGo/s400/IMG_1246.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And this one too:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TGkGxT0nhsPLFh2vNE1xbg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/STIESPmorBI/AAAAAAAABDw/2D_bJLHUiWI/s400/IMG_0828.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Here's Big Bend:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/QC5ny-kQYjcdG86bhnDNcg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/STGAjXgFzFI/AAAAAAAAAss/suJm70hYPgI/s400/IMG_2614.JPG" /></a> <br /><br />The Grand Canyon:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Mi3qoeKTWYWhlpNBRVm_UA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/STGyHZjLfkI/AAAAAAAAA0U/kE3jJhikdzc/s400/IMG_2946.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Bryce Canyon:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/J90f9p95TEOwjhtHdRbsBg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/SL3tGDT3xZI/AAAAAAAAAUA/_Z2IQtnuZQc/s400/IMG_3859.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Zion:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4plV3Y6T-nmBQnUA6aON9g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/SMBy6RJdl5I/AAAAAAAAAZo/6D3Lo_PUVRo/s400/IMG_4120.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Zion again:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ka6cD_yN7aag5KaKRPUQeg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/S1UMqivo6TI/AAAAAAAADmY/HomtkhijFig/s400/IMG_5268.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Yosemite (although I'm technically sitting in this photo):<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/l70-CL6nG9zv8hTr8M7XWA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/ShD8qE2nU8I/AAAAAAAABxM/Lr4Ob7U5hL8/s400/IMG_6028.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The Grand Tetons:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-p9YyHFyxOpetDVy9HjPlg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/SiU3S1JO1dI/AAAAAAAAB10/k9xwp2cm-Gg/s400/IMG_6265.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Yellowstone (This picture makes me want to go to Scotland):<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KUWK1NHcv93KImkJkBflgA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/SiXUsJL_CoI/AAAAAAAAB7A/J7wBz1culic/s400/IMG_6590.JPG" /></a><br /><br />King's Canyon:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xULTYuZii3ajWbvF-Fzykg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/SrfMf6IOVmI/AAAAAAAAACA/sj2LfdHxi80/s400/IMG_7793.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And Joshua Tree:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zm16O1IH6c1S9CqP8wTaQg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_ySlLNYgmIkk/S1UMHwNUSDI/AAAAAAAADmU/wjPjQzdPK4M/s400/IMG_8191.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Now, I know those are all great pictures. Like I always say, it's easy to take great pictures when you go great places. I am definitely not the most interesting part of each of those photos. I do frame them well and pose appropriately, but I'm now going to show you what you don't see in each of those photos:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/08Uh-PYNuShqFadJJ55Bew?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UVZlksLjI/AAAAAAAAAYs/8__N1YveFuw/s400/IMG_8947.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Yep. That's me. Falling.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/vwqqI8LkGBzkwg2-GjwIuA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UVhBeDw0I/AAAAAAAAAY0/OqzT1G53s44/s400/IMG_8946.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Repeatedly.<br /><br />I set the timer on the camera, press the button, and run to get in place. That's usually much easier said than done. The ground isn't usually level, the drop-offs are prodigious, and the margin of error is slight. I'm also a bit clumsy which isn't a trait you want when you're hiiiiiiigh up on the edge of a cliff. Somehow though I haven't fallen to my demise. Yet. Eventually I do get a good picture, like this one:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/lgBbASzWEnaV3dec2fgmVQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_pTkRvy4mGZ0/S1UVo3-xV4I/AAAAAAAAAY4/H__f1Gypo7E/s400/IMG_8949.JPG" /></a><br /><br />That's from Dante's View in Death Valley, and I am proud of it, not so much because I stood there, but because I didn't fall.Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-82392460925642214962010-01-14T16:02:00.001-08:002010-01-14T16:43:17.935-08:00Up in the Air<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gloaminganddawn.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/upintheair-poster.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 430px;" src="http://gloaminganddawn.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/upintheair-poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><blockquote>"The worst slave-owners were those who were kind to their slaves, and so prevented the horror of the system being realized by those who suffered from it, and understood by those who contemplated it." - Oscar Wilde</blockquote>Where is your source of stability? What do you depend on? In the midst of the turmoil of life, where is peace? What is your hope?<br /><br />For many, financial security is the bedrock of their lives. We work hard in our chosen fields. We go to school to obtain a higher degree and become more skilled. We save and invest. We do all of this in hopes that these practices will ensure a pleasant, peaceful life.<br /><br />Then one day we find ourselves sitting across from a man like Ryan Bingham, and he has come to tell us that our foundation is being ripped from beneath us. We are losing our jobs. "Your hope," he says, "is no hope at all. Take this packet, and let us begin helping you rebuild your life."<br /><br />Ryan Bingham, played by a never-been-better George Clooney, is the central character in <span style="font-style:italic;">Up in the Air</span>, and his job is traveling around the country letting people know they have been let go. He is the god of wealth's angel of death, flitting through the clouds and descending only to bring judgment on the unsuspecting worshipers below. He does this coolly, calmly, and without remorse.<br /><br />But he is also human, and to become Mammon's harbinger of doom he has had to detach himself from all consequential relationships. He loves and is loved by no one. Women are play things, other men are adversaries, and family is an annoyance. "Relationships are weight," he says, "To carry them is to be slowed down, and to move is to live."<br /><br />The narrative's central crisis is created when Bingham learns that like the thousands he has spent his life firing, his way of life is in jeopardy. A hot-shot young woman (Anna Kendrick, wonderfully liberated from the <span style="font-style:italic;">Twilight</span> franchise) has arrived on the scene to revolutionize the way Bingham's company fires people, and he isn't going to be able to live disconnected any longer. He's going to have to land in Omaha, a place where he has no reason to be except that the city houses the headquarters of his employer.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Up in the Air</span> is essentially two films in one. On each end of the film and interspersed throughout are montages of people reacting to the news that they are losing their jobs. In these moments the film becomes a lament over the economic storm that we have weathered through the past year. Many of the people pictured in these moments are not actors. They are people who have recently lost their jobs. We see their actual reactions to finding out their hope has failed them. The audience lives vicariously through these people. We commiserate with them in their angst. We ask with them, "When our supposed hope fails us, to what do we hold?"<br /><br />The second foci of the film concerns the purpose of relationships in our lives. "Make no mistake," Bingham chides Nathalie, "We all die alone." Why then, should we invest in one another?<br /><br />"Ah ha!" you're thinking, "I know where this movie is headed. The second question answers the first." You'd be right in most films, but <span style="font-style:italic;">Up in the Air</span> doesn't offer such easy answers. Like Ecclesiastes, <span style="font-style:italic;">Up in the Air</span> admits that loving relationships are a balm to life's bruises, but also like Ecclesiastes, the film doesn't picture love as a cure-all.<br /><br />This film as a whole is more honest that most others. It is a brave work, because it is willing to point out our brokenness and to admit it's inability to provide an answer. It is truly compassionate both to the character of Ryan Bingham and, by way of the people in the film who lose their jobs, to the audience. This is not a trite film in any way.<br /><br />Like the slave masters who were kind to their slaves, most movies freely give false hope to their audiences. <span style="font-style:italic;">Up in the Air</span> doesn't want you to remain in slavery, and so it doesn't offer easy answers. It doesn't lie to its audience by saying that romance solves all problems. Some will see this film as sad and depressing and unsatisfying. It is these things, but the filmmakers should be applauded for honestly saying, "This is the world as we see it and as we surmise our audience sees it as well. It is a broken place, and we mourn over that, and we have no answers."<br /><br />This is the place where we, as bearers of the hope of Christ, must step in and give the Answer that has found us. We have true Hope in the face of economic misfortune. We have a reason for relationships. We see past death. "Saints love beyond Time's measure," the hymn sings ("All Flesh Is Grass"). It is our duty to answer Ryan Bingham's cynicism with, "No, Ryan. We don't all die alone, because we know One who has already died for us."Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6156657551368262975.post-85534408654205858112010-01-12T13:30:00.000-08:002010-01-12T14:15:58.033-08:00In the Mystery<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mikegothard.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/storm-clouds7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://mikegothard.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/storm-clouds7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I've long had trouble with the book of Job. I just haven't been able to stand the ending. It seems so unfair. Job did nothing wrong, and God explicitly allows calamity to come upon his life. Job loses absolutely everything, and no one comes to his aid. Even his wife and friends prove to be a burden to him in his angst.<br /><br />Finally, God shows up, but God doesn't comfort Job. God doesn't explain anything to Job. God just says, "Who do you think you are? I'm God. Shut up."<br /><br />And Job does it! He shuts up. I guess when God comes in a thunderstorm and questions <span style="font-style:italic;">you</span> to <span style="font-style:italic;">your</span> face there's probably not much else you can do, but it just seems so mean to me. I'd have wanted to really lay into God at that point, but perhaps I should try to be more like Job.<br /><br />This past quarter, I studied Job, and I saw the end of the story in a whole new way. After God shows up and speaks, <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job+42&version=NIV">Job says four things</a>:<br />1) Nothing that You want to happen can be messed up.<br />2) I admit that there are some things that I'm just never going to understand.<br />3) I've heard about You all my life, but now I see You.<br />4) I repent of all my complaining and questioning.<br /><br />Sometimes in life God leads us through things that we're just not ever going to understand, and in those seasons, we must be able to say like Job, "I still trust You, God, and I repent of the times I haven't trusted You." We have to be willing to really give everything to God, to give up even our efforts to explain what's happened.<br /><br />There are things that are just beyond our capacity to understand. We have to trust God in the mystery.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">I Will Rest In You</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">There is much I can't explain,<br />And I've tried. I've tried in vain.<br />Now, I repent, and my refrain is,<br />"I will rest in You."<br /><br />For all my life I've heard Your name.<br />They call You "love"; they call You "grace."<br />Now, in the storm I see Your face,<br />And I will rest in You.</span>Elijah Davidsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17683724894917223631noreply@blogger.com4