14th Feb

Feel like I’m gonna get a lot of hate mail from dudes in a few minutes, and potentially even from girls!

I just wanted to comment on the subject of relationships, since it’s Valentine’s period, one which I’m not a fan of, not so much for personal reasons, I got over those with adolescence, but for corporate reasons; it’s one of those non-days which of course are just used for commercial purposes, but worse than that, I believe there are more depressed people on these kind of days than there are happy people, and that doesn’t just go for singles.

I’m sure couples experience crises on these kinds of days, when they’re not stable and they don’t know whether they’ll be together in a few days, or weeks, or months from now, usually because the guys don’t want to commit. I can’t speak as a guy who has his life all sorted out, so I’ll speak with a pastor’s heart: ladies, you’re worth fighting for. You’re worth respect, worth a guy who’s ready to invest into a relationship with you, so don’t settle. I don’t mean that you set ridiculous standards for his looks, style or income, those things can be worked on, but for his character, yes. You’re not his saviour, you can’t change him, something else has to. So if he’s indifferent, if he’s verbally abusive, if he’s physically abusive, if he can’t keep a conversation with you without his eyes darting to the next pair of buns that walk by, if he’s only affectionate on one day of the year because it’s the one day which he is reminded of by everything else, he’s not the guy for you, or not yet. Expect more from him, “I can’t help it” isn’t good enough. I’ve heard countless guys tell me things like: “I’m faithful to my girlfriend, but not in my mind”… And grin. As a guy, I know of the weaknesses of the mind, but that’s nothing to be proud of, nor accepting. As a pastor I deeply respect says: “When you’re dating, he’s on his best behaviour, so later on, you can only expect it to go worse…” let us use for a wonderful example the really nice guy I met on the train with a friend on Thursday. Engineer, fun guy, married with four kids, somewhere between his late 30s and early 40s. What I suspect his wife isn’t aware of is about what he told us in the most casual manner, while talking about Canada: “Oh Montreal, great place, wonderful dancing parlours.”… By dancing parlours, he meant those gentleman’s clubs known as strip-bars.

“I see it like going to a museum. What’s the difference, it’s all art.”

“Well the difference is the sleaziness”, says I.

“Right. Well I try to stay out of the really sleazy ones.”

Really? Wow, what an effort! The shocking thing is that he mentioned it to us because he expected us to high-five him like Borat would. When he asked us whether we went to those type of places, I just said “no, we’re good church boys”, which was a good enough answer for him, but not for us. We would have loved to tell him that it’s not our religion that prohibits us from going there, that even if we were offered, we wouldn’t, that there’s a huge difference between that and a museum, that the value of women is being thrown in the mud in those places and that he should repent and praise God that he still has his wife and four kids with him… And we felt frustrated that we didn’t.

See, if he doesn’t have the ideal to be faithful with his whole self from the start, it’s not going to get better 20 years down the line. Don’t settle for anything less, in fact, expect more than that!

So if you haven’t found the right guy yet, why don’t you let Jesus be your Valentine. If you’re lonely, he’ll comfort you, if you’re hurting, he can heal you. If you’re addicted or enslaved to something, he can free you, if you need help, he can support you. If you feel lost, he can direct you. If you feel worthless, he can show you how much you’re worth. If you feel unloved, he can love you. He’s the saviour you need. In fact, he’s the saviour that guys need! That I need! I’m not John McClane, I’m the kid who gets himself in a mess and who needs help, and eventually, thanks to him, I can grow up and get it together (cultural reference: Die Hard IV). When you realise that you’re not the hero of your story, that you’re just messing it up, his intervention can change you and really give you the tools to be a good guy… That’s one of the main points in the Bible, whether you believe in it or not.

So there you go, here’s an e-card to tell you Jesus loves you today. As cheesy as that sounds. But he really, really does.

Shed that skin...

Here’s another post that probably only 3 people out of my 5-fan readership will understand…

Exam periods are always the same… Ups and downs, you’re undulating with emotions, eating patterns, sleeping patterns etc… How I long for the time when I have a job and don’t have to suffer the whims of teachers.

After spending a whole day indoors last week, I decided I could take it no more. It had been snowing for days and I hadn’t even taken advantage of that. I was frustrated physically, intellectually and emotionally. I put my jogging gear on, plus a scarf, bonnet and my crappy torn woollen gloves and ran out into the night, flakes still descending upon the already white blanket covering Collonges.

There’s something quite special about running in the snow. Whatever light there is, it is reflected by the snow on the ground, so on a late night walk through the city with a friend last week, it seemed like it was daytime, but on this starless night it was an opaque continuum interrupted by luminous patches, depending on the presence of lampposts. There was so much snow and it was so dark that, when I reached the fields, I couldn’t differentiate the path from the field with my eyes; I had to feel the path’s harder ground. However, after a while, I decided the road most travelled wasn’t the right choice, since I’d decided to go for a shorter run than usual and wasn’t getting any exercise, so I dove into the open field, ending up a foot-deep in snow with soft ground underneath. That got my heart racing! I pulled my foot out of the snow with every step, jogging uphill towards the mountains I couldn’t see, starting to breathe heavily, looking back from time to time to see the marks I was leaving on the previously immaculate carpet, but the snow was so pure and thick, I couldn’t even see them…

I don’t know how long I ran for. Nonetheless, on my way back, going through the same fields, reaching what I judged was the centre of the biggest, whitest one, I rolled, landing on my back, and just lay there. I made an angel in the snow and just stared at the blank sky. No Betelgeuse, no Deneb, no Cassiopea. Just a sheet of grey. I felt better physically, but still couldn’t quite put my finger on what was bothering me, what I needed to evacuate… Then I heard it. I can never tell how I do, I just do. “Shed that skin… just shed it.”

The words rang deep. I was lacking the vision of eternity. I’d been living off of cheap grace, that asks nothing of me and gives me nothing to live for, instead of the powerful and costly grace I’ve received, that asks everything of me but gives me all things. Flesh was obscuring my sight and killing my thoughts, my moods, my heart. I was living contrary to my calling. It’s really hard to express this with words, even for me, but I just needed to realise anew the depths of the joys of living in light of eternity, the freedom of living in obedience to God (that awesome paradox, wonderfully explained throughout Romans chapters 5 through 8 in the Bible), the joys of running effortlessly in the grace of Jesus Christ, no matter what I do. I needed to shed my skin. To rid myself of patterns of thought set in over years, hidden in my flesh.

I got up, looked back at the very realistic angel imprint and back-flipped my way out of the field, that is, until I realised that isn’t feasible in the snow…

Days later, I realised that comes also from an attitude I have of waiting and hoping for something to happen in my life, something that is missing. I need to live in the ‘now’ of eternity, I have all things NOW, in Christ. Christ has to be my ultimate satisfaction, or else I’ll be constantly disappointed. And it’s not that I have to put that on him: He already is! I have to understand that again and again, and go to him to drink, not mess around with other dirty sources of water, as Lewis points out in his address “The Weight of Glory”, when he declares boldly that our desires are “not too strong, but too weak”!

I formulated it this way today in a note to myself:

“There’s no expiration date on God’s faithfulness, goodness, ‘betterness’ for me. If I start thinking like that, I’m just using him as another functional god and not worshipping and seeing him as the one true God. That kind of ‘use by date’ worship can never satisfy. There’s no time in life when God will stop being the only important thing and will only serve the purpose I assign to him if I have this or that other things as well. You can’t tell God “well, I’ll live my life for you, but I’d better be married by the time I’m twenty-eight, otherwise my life will be wasted.” That’s using him, and elevating your self instead of giving it up and finding your place at his feet, as his child. You end up like the older son in the parable… Only when God takes his place as the centre and source of everything I live for will his joy, love and power truly flow and overflow into every area of my life, and make sense of everything that doesn’t, existentially satisfying me.”

John Calvin said that our hearts are idol factories. I have to regularly kick the things that would take their place in my life as functional gods out of my heart, or else my heart will grow sick. There’s nothing else that can be my saviour… No-one else can take the pressure, and all things material will anyway pass away in the face of eternity. And when eternity fully comes, the things I worry about now will lose all meaning, so might as well live like that now, trusting in God’s faithfulness, goodness, ‘betterness’.

That’s kind of two posts in one, sorry for the battyness, but I don’t care, nobody reads this anyway! (Except for you, thank you very much!)

Music that runs shivers down my spine as I'm writing this: Tonight, by LaRue:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWZEJQTlEks

Prophetic Fields again

So I know I haven't blogged in a long time on either of my blogs... My French theology blog readers are going to get a treat in a few weeks' time, stay tuned if that's you, and here there are a couple of things I've been wanting to write, one of them a Translation Studies (traductologie, it sounds so much cooler in French) short I should be writing for my School's paper, then a couple of reviews for some very cool EPs (stay tuned, I haven't forgotten about you!).

Truth is, I haven't been very creative at all in the last two months, three weeks of boarding school sucked the life out of me, both physically and spiritually. And since my only means of inspiration and creativity is relationship with God (so really, he gets all the credit), I can't do jack if my prayer life sucks! :) But I like that, otherwise I'd be like those kids who always write about how depressed they are. For some reason, their music sells, and mine stays in my basement! ;)

That having been said, I picked up my electric guitar for the first time in ages the other day and just now I had a bit of a jam. Clearly inspired, after changing a string, I played a song I wrote a few months ago, a song I was afraid I was going to have to throw out... But now it's been redeemed, as I just brought some final changes and touches to the lyrics that make it just right. What's really cool is that it sounds great both in quiet acoustic and in shredding diminished chords with distortion. I love it.

Racheté le 29/09/2009

Fields of prayer

Seasons come and seasons go,

You live in moments and never know

What the person who looks back to this instant will be like…

I was walking through these fields only a few months ago,

frozen in the winter who’d think anything would grow?

(It feels) there’s a beauty that eludes me, just can’t focus it in one place,

like the petals of a flower that dried and … were blown away…
Looking beyond the things I see that are so temporary,

there’s something deeper that somehow is not quite so ordinary…

Well, I’m here, I’m real, I’m flesh, I feel,

I’m no fake, feel the wrinkles on my face…
The presence of the divine impinging upon time

washes over troubles and perplexities of my mind…

Now the focus has been brought, this elusive beauty caught

The writer of this play has written all over it his Name.

Every little detail of this ever-changing landscape

gets meaning from the brushstroke of a painter that creates.

The symphony of colours finds coherence in this state

and harmonies placed here and there hang unexpectedly in the air… (in the right place.)

And having tuned my ear to this fugue now I can hear

…The song, composed for me, played through everything I see. …

And when the fields are ripe for harvest, I’ll hold her in my arms,

Walking through the wheat so fair, like diving into silky hair…

Every word I speak or write, a step of faith towards you,

Week after week praying and fasting for you.

All my senses being played on in this feast of art laid out

Generates a conflict somewhere deep inside of me.

‘Cause what I’m being shown, at the moment, I don’t see.

So the timing’s not quite right… But I’ll trust in the might

Of the comprehensive artist who orchestrated this whole sight…

Ripe cherries and wild strawberries bring me to this song,

Sprouting behind leaves, appearing as I walk along!

The sun goes down, the shades grow longer on my fields of prayer,

I turn to give them once last glance, tomorrow I’ll be back here…
(I can hear …)

When the fields are ripe for harvest, I’ll hold you in my arms,

walking through the wheat so fair, like diving in your silky hair…

And you should know that to see your smile, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do,

So but for now, I’ll keep on praying and fasting for you…

When the fields…

© Joseph Antonio Natali, 2009

What a coincidence, last night, I had an awesome time with God...

Whitest homeboy in Italy (apart from all the tourists!)

Mardi, 21/07/2009

I stepped out into the Roman heat about a week ago at Fiumicino airport, where my parents picked me up to drive me back up to Tuscany. This is my first Italian summer in a couple years, and I’d forgotten how heavy it can get. Many envy the fact that I get to spend time here over the summer, and though I do love coming here when I can, I’m quickly reminded of the many ways in which I don’t fit in… I’d really love to come here with some other people, so as to look more Italian than someone else and enjoy this truly lovely place with the company of some mates, hopefully one day… On the Feniglia beach, on the first day here, sporting slightly embarrassedly the tighty-brownies I found at home (sorry for putting that thought in everyone’s head), having forgotten a decent pair of trunks back in Switzerland, I realised I’m the whitest guy in Italy, and as the days have gone by, I saw that fact confirmed in more than one way.

Last week-end I went to my first Italian wedding ever, which was interesting after the never-ending wave of English weddings I’ve attended in the last 4 years. Great opportunity to get a new suit, so a couple days previous to the event, Dad took me to our favourite local “negozio d’abbigliamento” to have a suit fitted. I couldn’t help but notice a lovely linen white jacket and once I’d put it on, that was it. H-O-T! With a swish red linen shirt to go with and brown leather shoes, I was ready to rock the Casbah… It’s not that I try to stand out, it just kind of happens! Upon arrival at the celebration, I quickly realised I was the only guy wearing a white suit, and that the only other blondes there were the girls with bleached hair. I clumsily attempted to introduce myself to the other guests as “Giuseppe”, but failed miserably; anyway, at the table I was sat at in the evening, I was the only guy from out of town, so my ever-confusing story came out pretty soon. Funny thing, an Italian wedding: tons of amazing food, plenty of wine, some of the guys looking like Mafiosi with massive sunglasses, others looking like gigolos, with their striped suits and collars pointed upward, all women wearing décolletés down to their solar plexus as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Another gaffe I made was to answer, when asked what is the best food in the world, after all my travels, not having quite realised it was rhetorical, “Oh Italian of course! … Though the Chinese are pretty good too…” I almost got stabbed and mauled by the girl I was talking to. “I’m just saying (blargh! Dying…), we owe them a lot… historically… Marco Polo (last breath)…”

But it was a lovely wedding and I had a great time, even the Catholic ceremony was really enjoyable, though it led me to many thoughts concerning the papist dogma. The priest was actually fun to listen to, something I don’t think I’ve ever experienced, and some of the theological points he made were spot on, but my dad did notice me seething with my fists clenched and my head bowed in groaning when the aforementioned speaker declared the omnipotence of Mary and invoked prayers for dead people… (my thoughts at the time, something along the lines of: “Sho-Jesuuu-ken!”)

As I write this, I’m actually sleep-deprived, and should be in bed right now, there’s another story. We’re actually right in the middle of a heat-wave here in Italy, and it’s killing me. Now some of our southern readers living in northern countries are saying “heat-wave, gimme some of that!” but that is something I’m just no longer used to. Lying in a puddle of sweat in the middle of the night, worrying whether you are actually going to dry up and they won’t find your body in the morning, is not a nice thing. Which is why I am sleeping in the basement, where there is yet a bit of humanly liveable atmosphere left. However, since I’ve been going from place to place, I’ve found myself in different accommodation settings for the past few nights. The most fun was in my sister’s room, on the fifth floor of a block of flats in central Rome.

I hadn’t actually been to Rome since December 2007, when I did my CELTA course there, and I suddenly decided two days ago to head down to what I’ve tentatively denominated the “beautiful chaos” of the capital. My sister spent last week-end touring the north of Italy with a friend, trying to promote her album which is just wonderful (and available on iTunes: Eli Natali, Interprétation), by playing in skanky bars. As she came down to go back to work, I hopped on the train with her. I spent half of yesterday recording some of my own songs on her awesome system (for my own use, so don’t worry about being asked to listen…) and then indulged myself to a walking tour of the beautiful cultural capital of Europe. It has been several summers since I came to Rome, but I realised after a while… Rome smells. In the winter it’s not noticeable, in fact that is why it’s the best time to visit, but as the sun beats onto the rubbish dumps and the dog poo at the corner of every street, the odour rises to create something quite unpleasant in some parts of town. Thankfully, the historic spots are taken care of a bit better and I was able to enjoy all those places yet again. There’s something quite nice about having familiarity with a place, and I’m getting to know parts of Rome quite well. My walk took me all the way back to my private spot in the metropolis, a café in the Feltrinelli bookshop of Via del Corso, within the great Alberto Sordi arcade. Italians don’t do cafés the way Brits and Parisians do, enjoying a mug over a couple hours with one friend or just on their own, no, they sometimes come in loud groups of even four or five, something I’d consider quite bothersome, say, on the first floor of Nero’s in Canterbury. In fact, I’m often the only freak in Rome sitting on my own with my cappuccino reading or jotting thoughts down for several hours! Anyway, even on my own I enjoyed doing the touristy things, taking photos here and there, even though I’d love to take someone round those places, share them with others… I finally ended up in Termini for dinner with some old friends of mine…

Working in a language school you get to meet some interesting people. I’m down with the Chinese-Roman crew, a group of second generation Chinese kids grown up in Rome… Good kids, but even they are more Roman than I am. I was so pleased to be able to meet up with them after such a long time: we met at an awesome Hong Kong restaurant right next to Termini station (go there if you get a chance), owned by my friend Angelo’s parents, but he was the boss that night, and soon, Paolo, Mirko and I (obviously, they have Chinese names) had about a dozen plates of different specialties on the table, eating Chinese style, just picking and choosing randomly from dish to dish. I was proven right: real Chinese food is on par with Italian. Fried sausage, chicken’s feet, whole fish, Korean gnocchi, breaded chicken, Cantonese rice, the list goes on… At the end, I ask my Chinese brother: “Chyin, geiwo júu…” Got any liqueur? “I’ll sort you out.” He comes back with a bottle of what appears to be sake, fills my glass to the brim and says “drink up!” After the first sip, I was sure it wasn’t sake… I can’t believe the Chinese, who can hardly handle alcohol, would make 62% drinks!!! Cao Liang Chiew… friggin’ punk. Burned a hole right through me. But it was fun. For them. “You not gonna have any?” I asked. “No, no, I’m fine.” Anyway, it was a good night, and in the end, he didn’t charge us, because he’s a legend.

My night ended later on, as I got a lift back to near my sister’s and went to meet her where she was at. Having dinner in the street, with a table and everything, in this hippie corner of town, where people just hang out. It was quite something, to see all the neighbours sitting round the table in their alleyway, eating and drinking, and talking about the deep stuff Italians always end up talking about… Out of a film almost, like Stealing Beauty. A part of me couldn’t help but feel out of place, slightly bourgeois, though I’d probably do that every night if I could! Following this short trip I have some more thoughts about the Roman life, still need to formulate them properly though…

So there it is, don’t know whether I said anything interesting, but I’m back off to the beach for some chillin’ and swimmin’…!

A place to rest

(Song written and played for Pat and Jeanne on their wedding day, the 23rd May 2009)

Vésenaz, 01/05/2009

A Place to Rest (ballad for two big-noses)


My thoughts float around the room
Trying to write a few lines,
Conversations, looks and places
Vividly come to mind.
Time and distance separate us
But can’t change memories of mine.

But now you are each other’s
And creating something new.
‘N’ though I am still your brother
I’m separated from you.
We’re moving on into life,
How we’ve changed, how we grew!

Writing songs to seduce him, and never playing them when he’s around.
Spending hours talking to her, but never gaining any ground.
Eventually you found each other, no more drama for the crowds…
You should know, you’re the best,
Glad you finally found a place to rest.

Mint tea:
I would talk and talk and talk
While you’d listen happily.
Your most quiet words of wisdom
Speaking sanctity to me.
Hey, I’ll see you after class,
You alone who would just let me be.

Fresh coffee:
We would talk and talk and talk,
Even sometimes disagree.
Your kind and brash demeanour
Bringing me maturity.
In our worn-out, empty houses,
In apparent poverty.
I wanted to be there for you,
Hope to still have your esteem…

Writing songs to seduce him, and never playing them when he’s around.
Spending hours talking to her, but never gaining any ground.
Now that you have found each other, there's no more drama for the crowds…
You should know, you’re the best,
Glad you finally found a place to rest.

© Joseph Antonio Natali, 2009

Song for Jude

28/09/2008-21/12/2008

(Tune created sometime in August 2008)

Who are you?
Making everyone around you pull the strangest faces
And change the way the talk like they rejuvenated…
Do you even realise what your presence here creates?
You’ve only just arrived, but since then this is a better place.

Oh, pretty child,
I’ve only known you for a while,
And though everything’s new to you
You teach me so much with your smile…

Oh, pretty baby,
I could stare at you for ages,
Lost in your wide-open eyes
Seeing everything for the first time.

Kneeling down beside your bed
Just to hear you breathing,
Wondering what’s inside your head,
What could you possibly be dreaming?

As I put you in your cot tonight and turn off the lights,
Your crying slowly stops and you’ll soon doze off.
And I know that soon or late you will cry for a good reason,
‘cause this world’s so unfair, but don’t worry we’ll be there...

And I’m not going to tell you to make your Mama and Papa proud,
‘cause I know they already are…

© J.T. Noels, 2008

Bilingual news/Nouvelles en bilingue...

(Pour le français, c'est quelques paragraphes plus en bas, for English speakers, it starts here!)

I’ve come a long way, since the time I started once again attempting to write poetry at 18, then starting this blog at 20, after the French school system had succeeded in beating most of the creative juices out of me. The blog itself started as a means to the end of motivating me to write, and after a while it became the means to putting in the public sphere what I wrote and deemed worthy of publishing… If you look into the archives, you’ll see that writing truly is, as with any other art, about practice. Now I can confidently say that I enjoy rereading myself, which is quite an important step to achieve, and recently I’ve been experimenting and learning different ways to pitch my entries to as broad a variety of readers as possible. I’ve been particularly touched by some of my old students of English, who, from France to Japan, have confessed that they have been reading my blog and enjoying it. I know some of my course-mates at university read it, and some of my friends from church do too… The thing is, I put such a broad variety of things on my blog that they can’t really know what to expect when they go there for the first time. Usually, people who are visiting a blog will know whether they want to come back to it by the time they’re halfway through the first post, and while I didn’t have much to say back in the day, anyone who goes to it now can clearly see that has changed. My posts go from songs I’ve written to poems, from short thoughts for the day to articles challenging the common cultural beliefs and practices of today, and to Bible studies. Now, I’m not shy about my faith, as some will know, but I want as many people as possible to get a chance to read my blog, and when I invite them to read it, and they go on it for the first time, I don’t want them to feel cheated, and start thinking I’m using it as a subtle way to tell them the gospel (in fact, it’s not a subtle way at all!). I want them to be intrigued, challenged, provoked by what I put there, sure, and I want anyone who has questions about what I believe, or comments to make about that to feel free, but I don’t want them to avoid my blog because they feel like it’s got nothing to say to them.

Nonetheless, theological content has been steadily growing, and in the past few days I’ve been meditating on the purpose of my blog as it is, and on the question: “whom do I write for?”

I guess for a long time I was writing for myself, and that’s okay for a while, but I believe there should be more scope for the writer, going beyond personal satisfaction – but that’s just my opinion, and that doesn’t go for everything: some of the songs I write, I write for myself. I must confess that often, one of my driving factors in writing and publishing on my blog has been to gain the approval of guys I greatly respect; I realise now how dumb that is, and that I need far more vision than getting a pat on the back. Now, if I’m putting reflections, and results of personal study out there, I should aim them more specifically, by communicating directly to a group of people to whom they should be relevant, and that would impinge on the way I write…

Indeed, since I believe in serving first and foremost the local church, and the area of mission to which I am assigned – by God that is, I have decided to start a new blog, without shutting down A Man on Fire, no, not at all, but putting all theological content on this new blog, for the resourcing of anyone who wants to be resourced…

Now, some of you may be thinking: “What’s the point of creating yet another theological blog? There are hundreds on the internet, and 99,9% of them are utter trash!” I’m with you, but the answer is simple: that’s only for English speakers. Whenever you want to be refreshed by good theology, you can go on to The Resurgence, The Gospel Coalition, The City Church Canterbury, the Newfrontiers, the Mars Hill Church websites and download great resources! Most churches of over a couple hundred people now have websites with great links. Every month there’s a new great book to read, written by the latest hot theologian… Not here. Though I belong to a great church, there just isn’t the variety of resources that English speakers have. Our local Christian bookshop, though it has a lot to show for, can at best offer the top best-selling Christian paperbacks from America, which I’m sorry to say, I’m not too thrilled about. Most of the bible study resources are outdated and look like they were written sometime before the flower-power revolution… If you know what I mean.

One of my greatest desires is to see what is happening in the Anglophone world, with regards to new Charismatic, Reformed, Restoration church movements, brought to continental Europe, which is lacking in hugely in this area, and part of the reasons for doing my Master’s in Translation is so that I may have a hand in making the phenomenal, excellent resources that are being produced in the UK and the US accessible for people here on the continent. I’m living in a mainly Francophone place (with a heavy international influence) and am a part of a mainly francophone, but also bilingual church; that is why the blog will be bilingual, in that I’ll try to write mainly in French, but there will be some English content. I will be translating bits and bobs from resources already available in English and writing my own material as well… It’s an exciting endeavour, and the beginning of something bigger, which I hope will bear great fruit in time and be a factor in making the New Reformation of the Church in Europe happen!

I already have an enormous amount of ideas rushing in, am starting to make a list of priorities, but there are no limits… Which makes it SO exciting!!!

http://nouvellereforme.blogspot.com/, put it on your RSS feeds!!! Anyone is welcome to read it, but I warn you, it’s gonna be radical…

Français

J’en ai fait, du chemin, depuis quand j’ai recommencé à écrire à l’âge de dix-huit ans, après que le système scolaire français avait réussi à me saper de toute créativité, et ensuite quand j’ai commencé ce blog à vingt ans. Au début, c’était un moyen de me motiver à écrire, mais une fois reprise l’habitude, c’est devenu plutôt un moyen de rendre public ce que je jugeais digne de publication. En vérifiant les archives, vous verrez vite que l’écriture, comme toute forme d’art, est une question de pratique. Depuis quelque temps maintenant je peux dire que j’aime me relire (en tout cas en anglais), un accomplissement considérable (selon moi !) et récemment j’ai même pu expérimenter différentes manières de viser mes articles vers une plus grande variété de lecteurs. J’ai été particulièrement touché par certains de mes anciens élèves d’anglais langue étrangère, qui m’ont laissé des commentaires provenant de la France jusqu’au Japon, me confessant qu’ils ont lu mon blog et qu’ils aiment ce que j’écris. Je sais que certains de mes camarades universitaires le lisent de temps en temps, ainsi que certains de mes amis de l’église. Mais le fait est que personne ne sait pas à quoi s’attendre quand il tape l’adresse dans sa barre de recherche pour la première fois, en raison de la vaste gamme de textes et de sujets que j’y publie. Et en général, un visiteur saura déjà s’il a l’intention d’y retourner même avant d’avoir lu la moitié de la première entrée qu’il trouve. Or, jadis je n’avais pas grand-chose à dire, mais quiconque se met à lire mon blog aujourd’hui verra bien vite que ce n’est plus le cas. La gamme d’écrits qu’on y trouve va de la chanson à la poésie, du mot du jour à l’article verbeux défiant les croyances et pratiques culturelles d’aujourd’hui, et à l’étude biblique. Comme plusieurs le savent, je n’ai pas de problèmes à partager ma foi, mais je veux permettre à autant de monde possible de suivre mon blog, et quand je les invite à le lire, et ils y vont pour la première fois, je ne veux pas qu’ils se sentent victime d’une subtile (mais pas tellement) ruse que j’ai utilisé pour leur prêcher à la figure, sans qu’ils s’en rendent compte ! Je veux éveiller la curiosité, défier les présomptions, provoquer les esprits avec ce que je publie, et j’aimerais que ceux qui ont des questions, ou des commentaires, à propos de mes croyances, se sentent libres d’en faire, mais je ne veux surtout pas qu’on évite mon blog à cause d’un sentiment que ce que j’écris n’a aucun rapport avec eux.

Néanmoins, le contenu théologique du blog est en croissance continue, et depuis quelques jours je médite sur le but de mon blog tel qu’il est, et sur la question suivante : « pour qui écris-je ? »

Je suppose que pour longtemps j’écrivais pour moi-même, ce qui va très bien pour un moment, mais je pense qu’il devrait y avoir plus d’ambition pour l’écrivain, au-delà de la satisfaction personnelle ; bon, ce n’est qu’une opinion, et je ne la partage pas pour tout : certaines des chansons que j’écris, je les écris pour moi-même, point. Je dois confesser qu’une de mes grandes motivations pour écrire a été de gagner le respect d’amis que je respecte énormément… Je me rends compte maintenant de la stupidité d’un tel effort, et du fait qu’il me faut une vision bien plus grande que celle de m’entendre dire « bien joué… ». Donc, si j’ai l’intention de publier mes réflexions, les résultats de mon étude personnelle, ils devraient être visés de manière plus spécifique, et je dois penser à les écrire de manière pertinente pour ceux auxquels ils sont adressés. Ceci aurait un impact sur mon style…

Et vu que je crois à l’importance de servir là où Dieu m’a mis, dans l’église locale avant tout, j’ai décidé de commencer un nouveau blog, sans arrêter A Man on Fire, au contraire, mais dirigeant tout ce qui est théologique vers ce nouveau blog, afin des ressourcer toute personne qui en a envie…

Laissez-moi vous présenter mon raisonnement : dans le monde anglophone, il y a des millions de blogs théologiques, la majeure partie desquels sont inutiles, voire contre-productifs, mais en tout cas, il y a l’embarras du choix, et on sait où aller si on cherche des bonnes ressources ; la majeure partie des églises de plus de 200 membres ont des sites internet avec téléchargements gratuits de matériel très bon ; tous les mois, il y a un nouveau livre qui sort, écrit par le dernier théologien branché… Mais ce n’est pas le cas ici. Bien que je fasse partie d’une église fantastique, il n’y a tout simplement pas la diversité de ressources dans le monde francophone. En termes de matériel contemporain, le mieux que la librairie chrétienne du coin offre, même si elle se présente très bien, sont les derniers livres chrétiens de poche américains, dont je ne suis pas particulièrement fan. La majeure partie du matériel d’étude biblique est vieux et semble avoir été écrit avant la révolution hippie… Si vous voyez ce que je dire.

Un de mes rêves serait de voir ce qui arrive dans le monde anglophone part rapport aux nouveaux mouvements de restauration de l’église, charismatiques et reformés, arriver en Europe continentale, qui en a gravement besoin. Une des raisons pour lesquelles je fais ce master en Traduction c’est pour avoir un rôle à jouer dans la traduction et distribution ici des ressources excellentes qui sont produites en Grande-Bretagne et aux Etats-Unis. J’habite dans un milieu plutôt francophone (sous influence internationale) et je fais partie d’une église à majorité francophone, même si maintenant on a un culte bilingue ; c’est pour cela que le nouveau blog sera bilingue, c’est-à-dire que j’essayerai d’écrire surtout en français (bonne pratique !), mais il y aura quand-même certaines choses en anglais. Vous y trouverez des extraits de ressources déjà existantes en anglais que je traduirais en français, ainsi que du travail originel (même si en général je m’inspire de plein d’autres auteurs !)… C’est un projet passionnant, et j’espère, le premier pas vers quelque chose de bien plus grand, qui apportera beaucoup de fruits avec le temps, et contribuera à la Nouvelle Réforme de l’Eglise en Europe !

Evidemment, ça allèche ma créativité et ma tête explose d’idées, donc je suis en train de faire une liste de priorités, mais il n’y a pas de limites à ce que je peux faire avec… Ce qui le rend TROP passionnant !!!

http://nouvellereforme.blogspot.com/, inscrivez-vous au flux RSS !!! Tout le monde est bien sûr invité à le lire, mais je vous préviens, ça va être « trash » ! (Comme on dit à Genève)

Peace...

Midnight entry

As I jot down thoughts for this post, it’s midnight and I’m holding my 9-month-old nephew, because he was crying so loud in his cot I couldn’t stand waiting for him to calm down and fall asleep, so I got him up to give him some food and just calm him down. Presently, he’s absent-mindedly pulling my hair and putting his hands in my face, looking around, quite obliviously. He’s generally a happy baby. Since his parents put him on solids though, I just realised for the first time that he has bad breath. Of course, no one brushes his teeth, since he only has one that’s not even above surface yet, but that’s about to change… I’ve gone through so much recently, bringing to an end the first semester of my Master’s degree; I spent a lot of time in the library, for multiple reasons, I fought through my exams and came out on top. I’m about to dive into the second semester, which will no doubt be lots of fun and hold plenty of challenges.

My latest “catch-phrase” (not sure whether that’s the appropriate term) is “such and such is proof of God’s existence!”… It generally relates to food. For example, “meringue is proof of God’s existence”, or “pancakes are proof of God’s existence”! But it applies to so many categories of things: waking up in the morning with snow falling outside your window, covering everything with a sheet of white; riding on the bus seeing light mist hovering over the lake; walking in the centre of town to see the sun rise above the city, breaking atop the buildings, “God exists!”

… One can see proof of God’s existence in the smile of a woman, the cry of a baby; or, in the cry of a woman and the smile of a baby, for that matter. The truth is, evolution doesn’t explain everything, even for its greatest advocates. How can music be a product of evolution? How can art? To take us back to the earlier subject, how can great, tasty food be the product of evolution, if all that differentiates us from other animals is our greater mental faculty, if all we are meant to be is thinking animals, whose unique purpose is reproduction and survival? These are things some people live for, yet, there’s nothing functionally useful about them, indeed, we’re going into the area of existentialism.

And why, oh why are we so appalled at the violence and suffering that happens in the world? Surely, that’s perfectly in line with the evolutionary worldview: there is no rhyme to the world, the strong eat the weak, how can we morally judge the world when we believe that’s the natural order of things, and therefore it’s perfectly normal for powerful nations to devour weaker ones… The base of the worldview does not warrant the moral outrage issued from our hearts.*

As such, we are freaks of nature! We call for judgement of a behaviour which should be perfectly acceptable, by the standards of nature. But this world isn’t fair, and without God, there is no rightful judgement of evil, indeed there is no such thing as good or evil. In an effort to make scientific sense out of the world, but taking God out of the equation, we have created an existential mess, generating more questions than answers, which simply bring on more hypotheses that are based on nothing much more than the fantasies of people with degrees. But since it comes from them, it’s called science. **

It’s easy to miss it when that is the world that you live in, where everyone thinks the same way, and God-whom-I-do-not-believe-in forbid, someone challenges the comfy worldview that glosses over the big questions, but these are all signs of man running away from God. People judge the Bible, calling it the product of man, and then go and produce theories (which are, therefore, product of man) and tell others to believe these! I can’t help but see that as a little hypocritical, to denounce someone for making a claim to know the truth, and then go ahead and create one’s own truth.

No, I believe in a beautiful Maker, with a sense of beauty, of holiness, and goodness. And I believe in sin too, which is the act of running away from that maker. To me, this baby I’m holding is proof of God’s existence, for he is beautiful.

And you could say that the reason I see him, and all those other things as beautiful is because I am born into it all and I have a socially constructed view of beauty, but that just doesn’t satisfy me, neither existentially, nor intellectually. And the thing is, it can’t satisfy you either, and you know it. And if it does, friend, nay, I do not judge you. I weep for you.


* Point taken from Tim Keller’s “Reason for God” series, part. “Suffering: If God is good, why is there so much evil in the world?” (Link in the title, little Easter egg there!)

** I'm more thinking about the multiverse hypothesis than evolution right here... I thought that came out wrong after re-reading.

The Farmer King (Parables of the Kingdom)

21/12/2008 – 10/02/2009
These words you spoke, as pictures of who you are,
Patient, joyous, tearful, a humble king, on a farm…
And as two world collide, you take over with your love
Making those who once were fatherless adopted, through the flood.


Friday, 27/10/2006

You start making bread in the morning, hiding yeast within the dough,
You walk into the fields with the seed you sow…
You pour your wine into new wineskins, but it’ll taste better than the old.

I’m seeking for a treasure in a field which isn’t mine,
Opening seashells by the seaside looking for the finest pearl.
I’ve sought joy in other things, but for the adventure set for me
I’ll leave it all behind.

The fishing season’s open and you cast out all your nets,
You’re sending out your sons and friends to pick up all the harvest.
Oh, what a feast, oh but what a tragedy,
For your friends who lied, and the crops that died,
I know you already cried…

I love you, but you still remain a mystery to me.
I’m fumbling through the adventure of what you’re calling me to be.
But I’ll enjoy your peace and gentleness 'cause I am satisfied in you.

Then I’ll eat the bread you baked in the oven, it rose, rose, rose.
I’ll pick the fruit off your trees as they grow…
I’ll drink with joy at the party, where you’re host.

I’m trying to dig deep and build a house upon the rock.
I fed the soil as you told me to I hope to grow a crop.
I’m reading all your letters as I make my way home to you.


© J.T. Noels, 2006, 2009

The fundamental elements of a nutritious breakfast

I know what you’re thinking: “Hang on! I’ve seen the back of cereal boxes, they show what a nutritious breakfast is, and they always include chopped up fruit, orange juice and a bowl of All-bran! (Seriously, even when the box is chocolate “cereal”, they show all-bran on the back!) All that stuff is fatty, addictive and you certainly can’t digest paper!”
Backtrack, let’s think about this: nutella? Awesome. Coffee: awesome. The Bible: verrrrry awesome, and mighty nutritious!
I know this is making me come across as the good Christian boy who reads his Bible every day, though I don’t, but seriously, this is a practice that has blessed me powerfully ever since I discovered its existence: Bible in the morning, the most nutritious bad boy there is! After all, “man does not live by bread alone, but […] by every word that comes from the mouth of YHWH.” (Deuteronomy 8:3)

If you’ve been through a bunch of books in the Bible already (like at least one of the gospels, Acts, and some of Paul’s letters), and you’re wondering where to go next, you may want to consider going through the non-Pauline epistles (the letters not written by Paul). They’re at the back of the Bible, covering so few pages you wouldn’t even know they were there, but man! can you get some spiritual mileage out of them? (The answer is yes.) I remember the first time I went through them, about 3 years ago, I was so amazed! The thing is, the two main authors of these are Peter and John, the men who were closest to Jesus in his time on earth, you know, guys who just knew him personally, so it’s quite special to read them; I guess you could imagine these guys giving a best-man’s speech at Jesus’ wedding, which in some sense they are, praising him as only the closest of friends could do.

I started reading 1 Peter last week and was blown away afresh by the verve, the passion, and the discourse of Peter, so much so that I believe an appropriate title for at least the first part of the letter would be:

An Ode to Security in Salvation

The particular, and fantastic thing about Peter, is that he doesn’t present a systematic theology, a logical sequence of arguments to make a point about God, like Paul does in Romans for example (another letter I absolutely delight in, it’s like porking out on bacon at breakfast), but rather his whole rhetoric flow is intricately woven to speak of the character of God, the salvation Christians receive, the person of Jesus in a way that one could easily miss if they didn’t meditate on every word; it’s like music, each word being a note, seamlessly following each other in uninterrupted sequence, as a stream of water. I say it’s not presented as a systematic theology, but it’s absolutely packed with weighty theological meaning, in a way only someone who is absolutely overflowing with the knowledge of God in his mind but also in his heart could formulate it! In fact, as you read it you can only say, “it must have been written by Peter, because only someone who knew Jesus intimately could speak so freely, lovingly and passionately of him!” (In fact, there’s another clue as to the fact that Peter really wrote it, which comes later in the letter, and which I absolutely love.)

Yet, at the same time, there’s this weird and wonderful fact that someone else helped him write the letter: Silas, or Silvanus (which today, I guess, would be Silvio), as Peter admits at the end of this letter (5:12) helped in the penning of the letter. This was probably for the simple reason that Peter didn’t write very well in Greek, the language used in the letter, and his mate helped in the translation and the editing of the letter, which is quite long. However, even considering Silvio in the writing process, something is just odd: Peter was a fisherman. In French slang, there’s a great word to describe what kind of person he would have been: un bûcheron, which means a wood-chopper… “Uh, didn’t he just say he was a fisherman, oh, maybe, part-time job…” no, it’s a word used to describe a guy with a big physical structure, big hands, maybe not much mental activity going on (though not necessarily), basically, a brute: “Me, cut wood!” Now, this is no disrespect to wood-cutters or fishermen, in fact I met a very nice wood-cutter a few weeks ago, whom I would have described as a bûcheron upon first glance (the guy was like a wardrobe!), and who made me crack up when he told me that was his actual job! But Peter probably wasn’t a very intellectual or artistic guy to start with, in fact, you can see him put his foot in his mouth more than once in the gospel accounts written by his mates and even the one he gave through Mark, and having that in mind, going back to this letter, there is this elusive fact about it: it’s beautiful.

In order to understand how on earth we are to reconcile these two facts, I want to bring us back to a bit of narrative in the book of Acts, specifically chapter 2. This chapter tells of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on all believers. This is no small thing: it marks a new era in the history of the world! It means that anyone who believes in Jesus can receive the Holy Spirit, dwelling within them, giving them a new life in Jesus. What happens after this event is that Peter, who was always doing silly things and saying wrong things during his time with Jesus, suddenly stood up and preached to a multitude, quoting Scripture and explaining why Jesus had come and had to die and rise, and explaining why all the believers were speaking in all the languages of the Mediterranean, something he wasn’t even expecting to happen until that day. It was phenomenal, so much so that three-thousand people converted to Jesus that very day! ... The Holy Spirit, that’s who the co-author of this letter is; he’s the one who inspires the most beautiful music, the most gripping narrative, the most captivating poetry.

Going back to the title, why do I call it an “Ode to security in salvation”? Well, as I said, it’s not in the style of Romans, that explains bit by bit why this is that and how this works with that, but it’s a big mix of rhetoric and he doesn’t bother explaining anything, debating opposing opinions, he just sings the truth that he knows is truth! Predestination, the supremacy of Christ, these things are things he simply assumes, and that is why it’s good for all Christians to study this letter, because it’ll sort out a lot of nonsense. He doesn’t do it in a mean way, he’s just loving every moment of life in the knowledge he has through Jesus!

But I’m getting ahead of myself; gosh, I’d love to just get lost in detail, but I have to try and keep it short, in the hope that someone will actually read this through!
For the purpose of simplicity, let me cut and paste the whole first chapter here: ESV, © Crossway publishing. (Thank you, e-sword!)

1Pe 1:1 Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who are elect exiles of the dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,
1Pe 1:2 according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with his blood: May grace and peace be multiplied to you.
1Pe 1:3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
1Pe 1:4 to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you,
1Pe 1:5 who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.
1Pe 1:6 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,
1Pe 1:7 so that the tested genuineness of your faith--more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire--may be found to result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
1Pe 1:8 Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory,
1Pe 1:9 obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
1Pe 1:10 Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully,
1Pe 1:11 inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories.
1Pe 1:12 It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you, in the things that have now been announced to you through those who preached the good news to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, things into which angels long to look.
1Pe 1:13 Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
1Pe 1:14 As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance,
1Pe 1:15 but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct,
1Pe 1:16 since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy."
1Pe 1:17 And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile,
1Pe 1:18 knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold,
1Pe 1:19 but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.
1Pe 1:20 He was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was made manifest in the last times for the sake of you
1Pe 1:21 who through him are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.
1Pe 1:22 Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart,
1Pe 1:23 since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God;
1Pe 1:24 for "All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls,
1Pe 1:25 but the word of the Lord remains forever." And this word is the good news that was preached to you.

First of all, I love the introduction verses! Peter, with the ease of a rhetorician such as Cicero, sums up the gospel in two verses, while expressing the Trinitarian character of God, and the functions of the three members of the godhead, finally expressing what the Christian life, indeed the Church of Jesus, is all about: grace and peace. A community of believers should be characterised by grace and by peace. Sure, there may be storms, but the children of God should always be rooted deep in the Word of God, which is grace and peace. Antonyms for grace and peace: legalism or religion, and strife.

What I want to do now, is pick out some words and phrases that I consider quite significant in this chapter, and show you why they are important and what they mean…

v.1: “elect”, v.2: “foreknowledge”, v.3: “mercy”, “he has caused us to be born again”, v.4: “to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading”, v.5: “by God’s power are being guarded through faith”, v.18: “you were ransomed”, “not with perishable things”, v.21: “[you, who] through him are believers”, v.23: “you have been born again”, “not of perishable seed, but of imperishable”…
Then there’s the final bit again:

“through the living and abiding word of God; for "All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever." And this word is the good news that was preached to you.”

… I remember a few years ago, before I started reading the Bible avidly, my best friend Liam challenging me, asking me where in the Bible it said that salvation is secure… I didn’t know what to say to him, ‘cause I didn’t read the Bible for all its worth at the time… But he did! In fact, he wasn’t doubting that salvation is secure, rather being a smarty-pants, but really, he was showing me that I needed to read it if I was to become a teacher… Thanks bro.

The truth is, there are so many passages that talk about this awesome, powerful, life-changing fact, that God is the one who saves, not man and his efforts, and as a consequence, there is nothing that man can do to unmake the work of God; you don’t even need to get to the New Testament to know that! God shows constantly throughout the history of Israel (really, anywhere in the Law, the Prophets and the Wisdom) that God’s will is supreme, and man’s will is not. In fact, man isn’t free! That’s why we needed to be “ransomed”, like a hostage. Better word yet, “redeemed” (alternative translation), delivered, set free! I would say, rather than the film where the dad pays the ransom and gets his kid back (that film never made it to the big screen, too boring isn’t it?), it’s more like the film where the father (someone like Sylvester Stallone, or Schwarzie, they’re always getting their kids abducted), locates the kidnapper, preserves his kid’s life whilst having an amazing, daring battle that leads to a crucial point where he’s bleeding badly, but manages to deliver the final blow (like a flying spinning kick), slash reach the gun and blow the bad guy’s brains out, not before having said an epic sentence like: “Sayonara, mutha’****a!”… I’d go see that film.

Hmm, I digressed slightly, but you see my point: God chose us. We did not choose him. God is the good guy. We’re the ones in need of saving. God’s hand is steady, his word stays true, his faithfulness endures, ours doesn’t. If we had any say in the matter, we wouldn’t want to be saved! We’re set against him, enemies of God. We became children of God, because his love is so overwhelming, his grace so complete! I met a girl recently who said she didn’t believe in predestination, though she was a Christian. I was like, “uh… Did you read Romans?” She had. She just wouldn’t believe it, because, in her eyes, that meant God is unjust. Though I appreciate that it’s hard to get one’s head around this stuff, if you’re a Christian, you need to adjust your worldview to what the Bible says, you don’t get to pick and choose what you believe and what you don’t. People who do that are just creating their own new religion, which doesn’t do any good for the salvation of anyone! If you can tell God how you want him to be, then he’s no god at all, he’s just an idea that makes you feel comfortable, and he will never be able to challenge you or get you to change. If you disagree with the Bible, consider the eventuality that you may be the one who is wrong… (Admittedly nicked that last main point from Tim Keller.)

How do I know that I can’t lose my salvation? Well, are you the one who saved yourself? (The answer is no, otherwise you have some serious problems…)
You were born again. Born again… Born. Again. That is not something you just do. It’s something that God does, and it’s not something he unmakes; what does he say? Of “imperishable seed”!!! Immortal salvation! Because of God’s mercy! Is the precious blood of Christ (v.19) good enough for your eternal salvation?

If you believe in this salvation obtained through the sacrifice of Jesus, his factual resurrection and his Spirit touching your heart to know him, then rejoice, because no one, NO ONE can take it away from you!!! Not even yourself, in all your stubbornness. Not even myself, with all the sin that I know I do!

If you don’t believe, I’ll admit that this was all quite full on, but I would say this: consider believing. No one else can offer you what Jesus does.

I’d love to keep going on into chapter 2, that tells us about Jesus being the cornerstone on which the whole Church rests (not Peter, as some would have us believe), but I’ll stop now; I’d love to hear feedback and questions from anyone who sincerely was touched, or confused by this.

So there you go, breakfast is good, and sometimes you get to have a bit bigger one, more like brunch with pancakes (which I had this morning) ;)

Ciao y’all.

Challenge

Nicked this off someone else's blog. Made me laugh!... I sincerely hope this isn't what I hear when I meet JC. By the way, Pete's not at the entrance of heaven, can you imagine how annoying that would be, if you were Jesus' closest friend and just wanted to hang out with him, but he gave you the job of waiting outside to direct people to the party?... That would suck. Please people, re-read Matthew 16 and understand that passage the way it was meant to be, not the way some religious guy misread it...

A legacy

Mythopoeia - John Ronald Reuel Tolkien


To one who said that myths were lies and therefore worthless, even though 'breathed through silver.'


Philomythus to Misomythus


You look at trees and label them just so,
(for trees are 'trees,' and growing is 'to grow');
you walk the earth and tread with solemn pace
one of the many minor globes of Space:
a star's a star, some matter in a ball
compelled to courses mathematical
amid the regimented, cold, Inane,
where destined atoms are each moment slain.

At bidding of a Will, to which we bend
(and must), but only dimly apprehend,
great processes march on, as Time unrolls
from dark beginnings to uncertain goals;
and as on page o'erwritten without clue,
with script and limning packed of various hue,
an endless multitude of forms appear,
some grim, some frail, some beautiful, some queer,
each alien, except as kin from one
remote Origo, gnat, man, stone, and sun.
God made the petrous rocks, the arboreal trees,
tellurian earth, and stellar stars, and these
homuncular men, who walk upon the ground
with nerves that tingle touched by light and sound.
The movements of the sea, the wind in boughs,
green grass, the large slow oddity of cows,
thunder and lightning, birds that wheel and cry,
slime crawling up from mud to live and die,
these each are duly registered and print
the brain's contortions with a separate dint.

Yet trees are not 'trees,' until so named and seen -
and never were so named, till those had been
who speech's involuted breath unfurled,
faint echo and dim picture of the world,
but neither record nor a photograph,
being divination, judgement, and a laugh,
response of those that felt astir within
by deep monition movements that were kin
to life and death of trees, of beasts, of stars:
free captives undermining shadowy bars,
digging the foreknown from experience
and panning the vein of spirit out of sense.
Great powers they slowly brought out of themselves,
and looking backward they beheld the elves
that wrought on cunning forges in the mind,
and light and dark on secret looms entwined.

He sees no stars who does not see them first
of living silver made that sudden burst
to flame like flowers beneath an ancient song,
whose very echo after music long
has since pursued. There is no firmament,
only a void, unless a jewelled tent
myth-woven and elf-patterned; and no earth,
unless the mother's womb whence all have birth.

The heart of man is not compound of lies,
but draws some wisdom from the only Wise,
and still recalls him. Though now long estranged,
man is not wholly lost nor wholly changed.
Dis-graced he may be, yet is not dethroned,
and keeps the rags of lordship once he owned,
his world-dominion by creative act:
not his to worship the great Artefact,
man, sub-creator, the refracted light
through whom is splintered from a single White
to many hues, and endlessly combined
in living shapes that move from mind to mind.
Though all the crannies of the world we filled
with elves and goblins, though we dared to build
gods and their houses out of dark and light,
and sow the seeds of dragons, 'twas our right
(used or misused). The right has not decayed.
We make still by the law in which we're made.

Yes! 'wish-fulfilment dreams' we spin to cheat
our timid hearts and ugly Fact defeat!
Whence came the wish, and whence the power to dream,
or some things fair and others ugly deem?
All wishes are not idle, nor in vain
fulfilment we devise -- for pain is pain
not for itself to be desired, but ill;
or else to strive or to subdue the will
alike were graceless; and of Evil this
alone is dreadly certain: Evil is.

Blessed are the timid hearts that evil hate,
that quail in its shadow, and yet shut the gate;
that seek no parley, and in guarded room,
though small and bare, upon a clumsy loom
weave tissues gilded by the far-off day
hoped and believed in under Shadow's sway.

Blessed are the men of Noah's race that build
their little arks, though frail and poorly filled,
and steer through winds contrary towards a wraith,
a rumour of a harbour guessed by faith.

Blessed are the legend-makers with their rhyme
of things not found within recorded time.
It is not they that have forgot the Night,
or bid us flee to organized delight,
in lotus-isles of economic bliss
forswearing souls to gain a Circe-kiss
(and counterfeit at that, machine-produced,
bogus seduction of the twice seduced).
Such isles they saw afar, and ones more fair,
and those that hear them yet may yet beware.
They have seen Death and ultimate defeat,
and yet they would not in despair retreat,
but oft to victory have turned the lyre
and kindled hearts with legendary fire,
illuminating Now and dark Hath-been
with light of suns as yet by no man seen.

I would that I might with the minstrels sing
and stir the unseen with a throbbing string.
I would be with the mariners of the deep
that cut their slender planks on mountains steep
and voyage upon a vague and wandering quest,
for some have passed beyond the fabled West.
I would with the beleaguered fools be told,
that keep an inner fastness where their gold,
impure and scanty, yet they loyally bring
to mint in image blurred of distant king,
or in fantastic banners weave the sheen
heraldic emblems of a lord unseen.

I will not walk with your progressive apes,
erect and sapient. Before them gapes
the dark abyss to which their progress tends -
if by God's mercy progress ever ends,
and does not ceaselessly revolve the same
unfruitful course with changing of a name.
I will not treat your dusty path and flat,
denoting this and that by this and that,
your world immutable wherein o part
the little maker has with maker's art.
I bow not yet before the Iron Crown,
nor cast my own small golden sceptre down.

In Paradise perchance the eye may stray
from gazing upon everlasting Day
to see the day-illumined, and renew
from mirrored truth the likeness of the True.
Then looking on the Blessed Land 'twill see
that all is as it is, and yet made free:
Salvation changes not, nor yet destroys,
garden nor gardener, children nor their toys.
Evil will not see, for evil lies
not in God's picture but in crooked eyes,
not in the source but in malicious choice,
and not in sound but in the tuneless voice.
In Paradise they no more look awry;
and though they make anew, they make no lie.
Be sure they still will make, not being dead,
and poets shall have flames upon their head,
and harps whereon their faultless fingers fall:
there each shall choose for ever from the All.

Feel free to complain

Saw this loser the other day, with a t-shirt printed like so walk past me in the library. I thought those kinds of t-shirts were only found in England. What an intellectual... Seriously, women should line up to kick this guy in the nuts; I don’t know which would be more beneficial for him, a sit-down and chat or a few rounds of smacking him about in the octagon…
Now, much ink has been spilt, and keyboard keys used over the issue of male and female roles and such, and though I’d love to, at some point, present a full study of biblical exegesis and hermeneutics on this issue, I’m just going to say a few things from my recent experience and reflexions… Many are, or would say they are offended at my point of view, but the truth is, men lead. It’s in their nature. The problem is that most men lead badly, because of ... selfishness, indifference, whatnot... I don’t think I’m saying anything new here, by the way. It’s seen at a macro scale in the way western society has evolved in the past several decades, where so many women have become more and more the kind of girls guys think up in their fantasies and look at in magazines. The kind of leadership offered by men in most arenas is one of selfishness and indifference. The justifiable answer to the mess created by such an attitude is seen in the feminist response: “Screw you, we’re doing our thing!” And why should they follow such bogus leadership? Are they any less intelligent or capable? (Though does that mean they would be any less selfish...?) Equality is good - yes, I know, I’m saying more and more exciting, incredible new things - the problem is that the attitude backing a lot of those arguments exacerbates an existing issue. Feminism, at its extreme, calls women not to coexist, but to separate from men. This creates a mentality of division and war, how is that going to solve anything, when half the people in this world are the opposite sex from you.

Did we start it? Maybe… Stupid jokes which I myself have laughed to, comments en passant, both men and women have been at it really, and they get nastier as one pushes the boundary; once you snap out of it, you should realise: we’ve created a culture of rivalry between male and female, where we think about what we can get out of the opposite sex and what we can get away with saying and doing, instead of one of respectful complicity, where we aim to serve one another and look for opportunities to do so, since yes, we do have different gifting and wiring!

But instead, because of the rightful disgust thrown at the macho stereotype, masculinity is being redefined, and he should really get out of that chair and stop that makeover, ‘cause it’s not looking good. Oh what the hell, I said it! Now, real masculinity isn’t necessarily looking like Randy Couture (on the left, the warrior himself); but it certainly doesn’t have straightened hair and shaved armpits (look at me! guy on the right with overpriced haircut and probably wearing eyeliner): what can you expect from a guy who spends that much time on his appearance? Does he have his priorities down?

My point is definitely not that outward appearance is what matters in masculinity, it’s about inner conviction and motivations. And there’s a sort of tug-of-war between people who want men to be, well, men, people who want men to be more like women and then there are those who just accept and conform to the trend in comfortable political correctness. Recently, I happened to talk to a few girls who admitted to really liking the style of “emo” guys… Why is that? What can they expect from them? Emotionality without substance. Fashion wins. Everyone else loses. (Someone told me recently that because I show sensitivity, I’m in touch with my feminine side… I’m not in touch, nor do I need to get in touch with my feminine side; I don’t have one, because, oh yes, I’m a man. On the other hand, I have plenty of honest, masculine sensitivity.) I know smart, sensible women who date losers without any vision or scope in life, and they just accept the state of affairs.

Why should women settle for anything less than solid, gentle men? They should be able to expect a better quality of men, men who, in the words of Chris Rock, “handle their business!” Neither the ones who treat them like toilets, nor the ones who expect them to be their mum; guys who run into relationships without thinking about what it will take to carry it forward, who really just want a girl hanging from their arm, like you wanted when you were a teenager. I had a chat with a girl at a party a couple weeks back, and talking about relationships, and about how I’ve not had any stories with girls for several years, she told me that I over-analyse situations and girls, and I don’t get into relationships because of a fear of getting hurt… This doesn’t happen to me very often, but though there may have been some truth there, I couldn’t help feeling that statement was wrong, something didn’t feel right about it (you know how when someone lays truth on you it just hits you right there - not that feeling). I put my finger on it several days later: it’s not that I have a fear of getting hurt as much as how I don’t want to cause unnecessary pain to someone else, because there’s no need to jump into relationships just to then jump out of them having hurt and left emotional scars on someone else. I felt good about that! I’m not saying this to praise myself, but in order to say “that’s what our thinking should be!” That’s how we treat women! Don’t go into a relationship you don’t think you can, or want to, lead!

Now, some may say “I find that offensive! The idea that men lead relationships is outdated and incoherent with our society!” Let me say, that means nothing: opinions are ever-evolving and so is society; the incoherence of society is phenomenal, where people judge those who hold to “outdated” ideals while thinking theirs are “innovative”, when these cycles have been happening for thousands of years, and 50 years down the line, people may believe something completely different anyway. I’ve seen marriages broken by indifference, struggles of leadership, and seen others, led by great men, blossoming with ever-increasing joy. So my ideas are outdated. But what’s the fruit? Gentle, sacrificial, caring, leading love. Wouldn't it be great to set that as the standard for men?

I’m not speaking as one who is qualified, but rather one whose eyes are fixed on that goal, to become less selfish, more caring, and ultimately, the kind of guy who will honour all women equally and love the one he marries all the way to the end.

Amazing still it seems, I'll be 23...

Nope, I didn’t make a mistake in the title and yes, I know I’m already 24, going on 25 (as strange as that seems). What I’m doing, is taking a retrospective look at this last year of my life, during which I was 23 years old. I find it kind of hard, especially when it seems like two weeks ago I was 22 and a lot of time went by without me doing much at all… And the best way for me to do this is by talking about the music I’ve been listening to.

I pity those who don’t appreciate music and its power, because they don’t realise that our very lives have soundtracks to them. That’s probably why it’s so normal for films to have soundtracks… It’s quite something though, when the music you’ve been listening to actually fits with the themes of your life… And I’m not talking about those who listen to depressing music because they want to stay depressed, nor those who listen to last month’s R’n’B star, then go dress and talk like them… More like, the bands I have come across and listened to over and over for the sheer pleasure of their music, displaying lyrics that actually sometimes lay my heart bare...

(Philosophical rant mode for the next 382 words, skip if uninterested)
It’s funny, thinking in the last few days about the way I relate to music, and how I relate music to other people, I realise I have grown up quite a bit: as a teenager I was a music fascist, meaning that I would try to force my music on everyone else, and anyone who didn’t like the same kind of music as I did got smitten by words of condemnation. I remember I used to fear becoming someone who would appreciate other styles of music, like drum’n’bass and lounge chill-out, and stop liking Metal. Moving to England… Anyone who has a strong opinion about anything is bound to get shot down by fierce sarcasm, in the old U of K. It’s harsh, but teaches one not to take themselves too seriously. You grow up from there. Silly comments about my music don’t faze me anymore (but if you do make a comment, prepare your face…), I’ve grown to appreciate a broader variety of music, amongst which, some drum’n’bass and lounge chill-out. I still like Metal, though I listen to a lot less. In fact all my old favourite bands have stayed at the top of my preferences, by far; actually that position has strengthened from listening to different styles… I still believe that my music is the best and that anyone who disagrees doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but I tend not to say that to their face (the operative word being “tend”). I would say I’ve gone from being a “music fascist” to being a “reformed music fascist” (kind of like the way you go from… Better not go there, let the reader understand). I realise I’m a 90s guy! The bands I love the most are the alternative/indie rock bands that came out of the US in the nineties… Of course, it’s not about 90s or not. It’s about the passion in the lyrics, in the music, the seamless marriage of lyrics and music creating metric and linguistic beauty… So if I hear something like that, I’ll like it. I’ll always be made fun of by English people for the music that I listen to, that’s because they produce some of the worst pop and rock… Hmm (abstaining from specificities, for the sake of the peace). I don’t need to defend the bands I love, but I can explain why I do. I keep it for myself now, and if someone is interested, I’ll tell them.
(Phil. Rant mode switching off…)

One of the bands I got totally picked on for listening to non-stop this last year is a Japanese rock band called Asian Kung-Fu Generation. It’s strange that English people are so big on sarcasm and yet fail to understand the sarcasm of others.

I had a lot of time on my hands at some points of last year, being on and off work, and came across them through the anime I watched. Finding more of their music I grew to like them more and more. They’ve made several albums, not two of them sounding alike, demonstrating a real creativity in their music. There was real passion in their rock, something drawing me to them as one is drawn to someone else because of a sense of commonality. Of course, lyrics being so important to me, I had to find their translation. Thank God for internet fans! I found a full-fledged fansite with translations into several languages of their lyrics. It seems that Masafumi-san (lead singer) is always writing about similar things. If Ajikan (diminutive of the band name) had a colour, it would without a doubt be blue, aquatic blue… The theme in so many of the songs in the albums Sol-Fa and Fanclub are relating to being a twentysomething in the middle of the city and still feeling like the only person on the planet, without direction and meaning to one’s life… Almost despair, but never totally, always with a sense of hope for better things in lying ahead… I understood why I liked them so much:

“How many times on a boring day have my dried up memories poked above the surface?”
“How many times at midnight have my dried up memories faintly shone?
Shine on this town…” A rabbit in the backstreet, Fanclub

It may not seem particularly meaningful. But it was to me.

Without wanting to sound too melodramatic, this last year has been one where I have had to meditate a lot on my life; I also sat on my ass a lot... It creates a kind of quiet and complacent depression. Not a good place to be in for too long. You’d want to “erase… and rewrite.” (Rewrite, Sol-Fa)

But… I managed to finish writing songs that had been started years before, and that wasn’t out of depression, as some say that the best music you write is when you’re down; who would want to rehash their depression to others (I mean repeatedly)? I remember my friend Geoff speaking truly prophetically when he said “you want to be creative? Get close to the Creator?” (Not exactly in those words, I’m making him sound cooler than normal.) I was able to use some of the time on my hands to pray and spend time with God, and actually, out of those times, my creativity was stimulated so much… And is now at a different level, as I am again and again being inspired (truly) for new tunes and lyrics, something I believe God has put on my heart…

I tried to stay faithful to what I believed would come during this year, even though this mantle of visionlessness covered me… But I can now say, that is what you have to do if you’re ever in that place. Hold tight to the hopes and promises that you have hidden in your heart and plod along until you’re out.

Another band I used to like, but that actually got a hold of me this year is Jimmy Eat World… They have a knack for making really catchy tunes… Not in a pop type of way, it’s actually quite unique, they can express the sentiment of a song, just make one go “Yeah!” and identify, with a guitar bend (see Crush or Blister from the album Clarity) or a voice harmony (Authority Song); they also fit some cool words into their texts, just catching you off guard... !

And I’ve got to say… I was caught off guard one day recently: I was walking down the street with Jimmy playing in my ears, a great track I hadn’t really heard before, when halfway through, I was left speechless, as I listened to the singer telling me my life for the past year and expressing my sense of hope throughout it…

“Amazing still it seems, I’ll be 23…
I won’t always love what I’ll never have,
I won’t always live in my regret.

You’ll sit alone forever,
If you wait for the right time
What are you hoping for?
I’m here, I’m now, I’m ready,
Holding on tight, don’t give away the end,
One thing that stays mine!” 23, Futures

How could he know?... I lived in regret, wanting what I didn’t have, what seemed so out of reach! Sitting on my couch waiting, hoping, holding on. So often I wanted to know how it was going to end, but the resolution was so amazing, so shocking, I’m glad I didn’t know, because that made it all the more glorious! I caught the vision for my life again, and ran with it! The depths of my heart roar like a lion for truth, that is my life’s battle. I still don’t know the end, but it’s exciting… However, I have an inkling.

In November, the Red Star EP came out, foreshadowing the release of Third Eye Blind’s next album in 2009, Ursa Major. This is something 3eB fans have been waiting for, for over 2 years! I heard the tracks and flipped! (www.myspace.com/thirdeyeblind)... Say what you want, NO ONE writes lyrics like Stephan Jenkins. The quality of the musical production, the lyrical choices and disposition, are just breathtaking. Another reminder of the fact that good things are worth waiting for...

Another good thing that was worth waiting for is my sister’s album: Interprétation (by Eli Natali, www.myspace.com/elinatali) came out this month and I’ve just been listening to it over and over. Walking down the street (again) at one point I cried out “for goodness’ sake, Lisa! How can you write such good lyrics!?”

I think I’ll review them individually in a later post, but I just wanted to mention them to say that I believe this next year of 2009 is holding stuff which I’ve been expecting for a long time and it will spur me on into further musical endeavours (amongst others), as I follow in the steps of those who inspire me. (Even K’s Choice might release a new album this year!)
... And I wish the same for you all in this next year of 2009. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

I didn’t get a chance to mention him up until now, but another guy who is just phenomenal, and doesn’t need anyone to interpret his thoughts: Cosmo Jarvis (I don’t know whether that’s his real name), a 19 year-old kid from Devon. Just go on his myspace page (www.myspace.com/cosmojarvis), you’ll see what I mean.

So, I don’t know if it came across, but our lives have soundtracks, and though the music we listen to dips in and out of it, I have a giant theme, accompanying me through everything. It’s called Grace. It’s composed by Jesus. (... www.myspace.com/Jesus... not really, it'll take you to a latino guy's page.)

(Photo courtesy of Jeanne Harper, all rights reserved)

Theology of Pornography

This e-booklet is really great and helpful for all you people out there with questions or struggles. It's quite raw and shocking, with some eye-opening stuff, but truly frank; if you read it while being honest with yourself, you won't be shocked but blessed.Here's the link:

http://relit.org/porn_again_christian/
Shaba, keep it real!

Joey