Easter
Easter is my favourite festival of the year.
Christmas ought to be great, but somehow all the materialism and Santa Clauses and Christmas trees and excessive Christmas lights gets to me. The "meaning of Christmas" gets lost in translation... or perhaps lost in the decoration.
Anzac day is important, but sombre. We reflect on the people who died for us.
I think Easter trumps both—it appropriately combines festivity and sobriety; reflection and recreation.
Don
Alas! Too late!
Matthew: Random observations
Various things I've been wondering:
5:17-20: I have always hitherto assumed that this part of Matthew's gospel, the sermon on the mount, is to push the law to the nth degree, so that we all, Jews and Gentiles, acknowledge ourselves as law-breakers (sinners) before God.
But I wonder if stopping there is enough. What leapt out at me yesterday was this: "whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven." While the Law and the Prophets may represent the old covenant, surely the kingdom of heaven represents the new; and that now we have regenerate hearts and salvation through faith alone, then we must actually strive to old covenental holiness?
5:25: The Adversary. I wonder if this is not a the mundane next-door-neighbour who is taking me to court, but perhaps Satan, the great Adversary?
8:29: "Have you come to torture us before the appointed time?" What appointed time? What did I miss? Does Jesus torture the demons when he goes to preach to them in hell? Do the demons know about the final judgement? is that what he's tallking about?
It also slightly worries me that in the related passage in Mark (Mark 5) there is only one man.
Holiday Soundtracks
I feel that places ought to have soundtracks. Certain places evoke certain music; I was reading of someone's journey down Highway 61 in the US, singing "Life in the Fast Lane" by the quintessential American band, the Eagles. I think there would be other great songs to trek America to: America (Simon and Garfunkel), Me & Bobby McGee (Joplin), Tangled up in Blue (Dylan). Indulgently, a small amount of Kings of Leon.
Then you move further south, and I'm thinking of delta blues and New Orleans jazz.
Good doses of pulsing new old-school rock for New York: Interpol and Strokes and some Velvet Underground to remember where they came from.
There is a cliche to Parisian music; and perhaps you just need to load in the Amelie soundtrack.
Perhaps Vienna deserves its very own soundtrack with its multitude of composers and orchestras. Rome is perhaps opera, but I'm sure it has more to offer.
I want someone to make us a soundtrack for Europe.
Bizarre-ness of the week
We were doing a late-night grocery run yesterday, and stumbled across one of the strangest things I've seen.
A mild unassuming middle-aged Asian lady looked like she was trying to by Coles out of Coke. Her trolley had about 30 bottles of 2-litre coke. The conveyor-belt was full of about 30 more (with a few Sprites thrown in). And whenever her conveyor belt started to get empty, she ran and grabbed several more.
What the???
Monkey want a banana?
I like checking stuff out on this website: Instructables. They have all sorts of DIY projects from How to build a fold-out table, to How to Shave, to how to hack your iPod.
It always amuses me what people think need explaining. This is one of them: How to eat a banana like a monkey.
It perplexes me that most Aussies I know eat bananas completely differently. Is there really any other sensible way to eat it without getting your hands covered with banana mush? And yet by the comments on the Instructable, it seems lots of people really don't know!
Complement
What to say?
I love being married. I love my wife. I think I am, on the whole, a good deal happier than I have ever been.
Work situations aside (which has changed dramatically enough that I'm not going to try to compare apples to oranges; or computers to people), my home life is now something I just enjoy.
Apart from the gaping hole in our family which we yearn for (i.e., a dishwasher) which would end much marital disharmony, and an occasional gripe about untidiness (Sarah about the lounge-room, me about the bed-room—because we are both tidy minds in untidy bodies) I love our home life. Even if it is complete and utter boring domesticity, I love it. I love being home and having someone around; someone to hug, and poke fun at, and cook for, and to cook for me, and watch dumb TV with.
I don't even want to think about home-life when single. How depressing.
We watched our Wedding DVDs on Monday night. It was very odd. We were thinner then, and better groomed, but more stressed, and less joyful. It was a happy day, and I look back fondly (and wish I had had time to catch up with all the people who came, some of whom I haven't seen since!), but we are happier now, and I'm glad.
There is a false expectation that your wedding day should be the happiest day of your life. That is a sad state of affairs, because if that were the case, wedded bliss would be a bit of a letdown. One would hope that you get happier and happier as you go, and grow, and get old together. I think I said that sometime the day before our wedding.
It is also interesting wondering how much we've changed. We watched Paul Grimmond's wonderful sermon ("Mawwiage, mawwiage is what bwings us togevver today...") and a bit of the reception-speeches (not all, because it was a long day!) and it leads me to wonder if perhaps marriage has dulled some of my sharper edges. I speak for me, and not for Sarah, because I am better used to the workings of my own head.
I wonder how many of these changes are due to changes in circumstance, and how many due to a change of occupation, and the people I'm surrounded by.
I have not dyed my hair in three years. That's a bit of an oddness, to me. I have not read any philosophy in many many years; when once I dreamed of doing a philosophy PhD. In fact, I read a lot less, and play too much XBox. That can't be a good thing. I think I give less, although perhaps I have less time and less money to give. I suspect we still haven't reached the heights of hospitality I would aspire to; and perhaps that will come with time, and a bigger, tidier lounge-room. (I don't mind inviting people into our chaos, but Sarah baulks a bit, quite naturally). I wonder if I run into ministry with as much zeal as I did; I guess I wouldn't make that same crazy move to somewhere I'd never been before so quickly now; there are more factors to consider.
I still yearn to change the world; but perhaps I am more content; and so generally more content to let the world be. I write less, perhaps because I angst less, and perhaps also because I am not surrounded by the great horde of writers and intelligentsia I used to keep around me. Uni students in Western Sydney are, on the whole, more pragmatic than philosophical. There are practical problems to be resolved before one starts thinking about airy-fairy notions.
I am happy. I am comfortable. Is that enough? Should I seek to push us back into the realm of discomfort? Do we really want to endure difficulties and trade comfort for zeal? For the sake of what, I wonder. And then I know my answer.
But I know this also: where we are now, God has given us. And we may not always have it; indeed time dictates that we will not. But let us enjoy the present now; and plan for the future before it engulfs us once more.
Simple things, simple ....?
Strange as it may sound, I'm really enjoying bread right now.
It is crueller than it sounds, because Sarah is (at the moment) figuring out if she is gluten intolerant, and has been off wheat for a few weeks. But I have been enjoying the joys of bread.
My mum loves bread, but it is never something that I inherited. I never really liked sandwiches, and I ate toast, but only by default, and more for the topping than the bread itself.
Then I discovered bread dipped in olive oil, and the joys of dukkah. Pane di Casas was once a house favourite, and I have just consumed a very tasty Ciabatta. Turkish bread is also fantastic (and so good for pizzas!).
And I am thinking of Europe, and picturing culinary delights; coffee, and bread, and all sorts of fantastic pastries...
Something else I am enjoying is stone-fruit. We have discovered a fantastic greengrocer/deli in the new Rouse Hill shopping complex that continually stocks high-quality fruits and veg. So plums, peaches and nectarines are constantly on our shopping list.
Once again, stone-fruit is something that I didn't appreciate as a child. Perhaps its a family thing: mum bought nectarines, but never plums.
And yet I find myself now loving plums especially, and that juicy, sweetness with a hint of tart.
Victim of Society
It seems that most people can't help themselves talking about them. So how about I be like everyone else and talk about them too.
Valentine's Day.
I don't hate Valentine's Day. But I do hate the trappings of it; much as I do the blatantly materialistic trappings of Christmas.
So in no particular order:
- I hate the amount of money and time and effort people waste on flowers and gifts and tokens of affection which are largely unwarranted.
- I hate the idea that "you must be romantic on this day". Compulsion, duty and obligation somewhat destroys what I see as the free-wheeling impulsivity of romance.
- (notice: what I think about romance is entirely different to what I think about love, which is about duty, compulsion and obligation. I love because i have said I will, and I will do my darndest, no matter how hard it will get for me to not love.)
- I hate that much as I have always intended to celebrate our anniversary (tomorrow!) rather than Valentine's Day, being significantly more meaningful to the two of us, I nevertheless feel guilty about doing so. Why am I so beholden to the world's expectations???
- I hate the insensitivity of Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day is not the time to be someone who is single and unhappily so.
Spiritual Cholesterol, or how to make Hard Hearts
This is a new thought for me, but it is not an original thought. I picked it up in a Mark Driscoll sermon, but I thought it was remarkable enough that I might share it, while I'm still musing over it.
The particular incident I'm thinking of is Pharaoh and Moses. As we all know, Pharaoh gets stubborner and stubborner, and after ten plagues, God smites Pharaoh and Egypt.
The curious thing are these verses:
You'll notice that in the same situation, God hardens Pharaoh's heart, but Pharaoh also hardens Pharaoh's heart.
- when Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the LORD had said. (8:15)
- But this time also Pharaoh hardened his heart and would not let the people go. (8:32)
- When Pharaoh saw that the rain and hail and thunder had stopped, he sinned again: He and his officials hardened their hearts. (9:34)
- Then the LORD said to Moses, "Go to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the hearts of his officials (10:1)
- Moses and Aaron performed all these wonders before Pharaoh, but the LORD hardened Pharaoh's heart, and he would not let the Israelites go out of his country. (11:10)
- The LORD hardened the heart of Pharaoh king of Egypt, so that he pursued the Israelites, who were marching out boldly. (14:8)
This reminds us that we are not just puppets or robots—we make our own choices and are responsible for them. But it also reminds of God's sovereignty—God is in control, and he is in control of us.
But the particular insight Driscoll made was this: How did God harden Pharaoh's heart? Was it by being mean to him? Was it by "not giving him a chance?"
Actually... no. Like the rest of us, God gave Pharaoh a chance; he sent Moses to him ten times to warn him of the consequences of his actions. God gives people warning; which is what the prophets were, and if they repented, occasionally there was relief—witness the city of Nineveh in Jonah, for example. He gives us warnings, and some of us choose to accept the good news, and some of us reject it.
So the interesting thing is that God hardens people by being merciful and gracious to them. Because to someone who doesn't want to hear the good news, it is the aroma of death. They reject it all the more. Witness Dawkins, and his ilk. There will always be people who spit on and reject the good news. Witness the parable of the Vineyard. (Mark 12:1-12)
I always thought that God was just and merciful. That he was just to all people in judging them for their sin, and merciful only to some in providing salvation to some. Now I see his mercy is greater than that; he provides mercy to all, but there are those who reject and continue to reject God's gracious offer of salvation.
"Abraham replied, `They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.'
" `No, father Abraham,' he said, `but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'
"He said to him, `If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' "
- Luke 16:29-31
