Relocate

I decided to relocate my blog. I'm not very good with creating a design for a blog to appease my audiences senses; maybe I just don't have enough patience for design. I most definitely don't have the skillset. Maybe what it is, is that I don't have enough patience to achieve the skillset. Either way, I'm relocating to tumblr just because I've enjoyed the various background layouts it has offered me.

And maybe it just seems appropriate because it is most certainly a new season of life.

If you'd like to continue to follow my blog, here is the link:

www.ahumblemusing.tumblr.com

Blessings!

how my father sort of had one thing right

I think I'm about to go off on a "my father" series for the next two blog posts. It might happen. So be prepared. And be excited; because my father is certainly a respectable man.

Growing up, he didn't have much. And for those who were able to put poverty into perspective; they always grew up as the best kinds of people. In Guangzhou, China was where he was raised. In one broad sweep, the word that can define most people living in China, especially during the 20th century until the very primordial ages is confucian. One could think of many things when this word comes to mind. It can mean, simply, the person, with the story, with its history. It can mean traditional Chinese robes. It can mean fu-manchus. [And yes, I had to look that up for spelling accuracy.] 

It can start moving from the outward to the inward -- appropriately so -- and mean philosophical. Or it can mean virtue. It can mean family. It can mean spiritual. It certainly has been tampered with to mean religious, even though the only religiosity of confucianism is the belief in the god of disbelief or the god of human hands. It reminds me of a resounding exchange between the man, Elijah, with king Ahaziah. The man whose name means Yahweh is God says, Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are going to inquire of Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron? Is it because the God of life could not save that you are going to the god of death, for life? But anyways, this message is for another time.

Basically put, he can be described as confucian. And this is why he is so respectable among many. Devout, confucian men, whether or not they know they are, are respectable. They are men of integrity. They are consistent. They have follow-through. The eyes of men do not dictate the values they uphold. The approval of men is not higher than the belief within. And that is more than I can say even about some Christians who I know. 

My father, like any chinese man, head of the household, raised in poverty; was a stubborn man. He even is an ox within the chinese zodiac. Which speaks volumes. 

Growing up, my dad guided his children with the same kind of stubbornness. And who could blame him? He was raised knowing how to cook, clean, and take care not only of himself but of his entire family as early as 11 or 12 years of age. He went out to find work before some late-bloomers even hit puberty. He knew the life of #strugglebus times a million compared to most people I know. He came out successful. He was a businessman to some and salesperson to others by the age of 20. Others may even consider him an innovative entrepreneur. One thing he did not get right was that money was the keys to the kingdom. And, to some extent, that would have been right; if kingdoms were to end on this earth. Some might argue whether power be that key or money. Others would say money would lead to power. But I would say scrap the entire conversation because Jesus already had it. My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world. In fact, even clearer, he says, but take heart; I have overcome the world. So money and power? If we knew Jesus -- you and I -- we're above that.

The one thing he did get right though was this. As I was stressing over college finances my last year of college; as I was working at the local chipotle in the west suburbs of Illinois, trying to come up with the rent money month after month; as I was thinking about a trip to the east coast to visit seminaries and friends; he said something that made absolutely no sense to me at the time. See, my father knew how to make money and decided to love his children by spoiling them with material provisions. His love language was "acts of service" but sometimes I thought it also to be "gifts." He made a proposition that had been all too familiar to me. He wanted to buy me a new car. I could enumerate a myriad of reasons why I was against purchasing a new car, but basically, my response was a no. I remember asking him how much he actually made per year because I never believed that he told me the truth when I've asked him before. And because he also, like I am, believed that every moment can be a teaching moment; he popped the phrase. I quickly brushed it off as foolishness. And it wasn't until just last week that it was yet again impressed into my mind.

Son. A person will not know how to make money unless that same person would know how to spend money.

Practically speaking, that is the most foolish thing I've ever heard. And yet why did I not remember that Jesus was a practical fool when standing before those who laid their foundations for earthly kingdoms? A practical fool, but an eternal  sage.

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. (Galatians 6:7)

The world will speak practical wisdom, saying that you won't know how to spend money until you learn how to make money. Of course. Because how could you know the weight of money without knowing how cumbersome and toiling a process money-making requires? Those dollar bills, at some point in my childhood, literally demanded from my father his blood, sweat, and tears. And if I knew that, which I did not back in my younger years, I would have reconsidered when buying my pokemon booster packs with those glistening holographic cards week after week. I would have thought about my investments. I would have been wiser. Practically speaking, you're outtake has everything to do with your intake. So I knew that I would know how to spend money once I understood every drop of blood, sweat, and tear that came with making money. The opposite of what my father said.

But when I began to read the scriptures, and as I began to tithe, Jesus opened my eyes. I will reap what I sow. I will only gain as far as my giving allows me. I will only receive as much as what I've let go has paved the road for. The practice of opening our hands is one that needs also to be unlocked with the keys of the kingdom. When we open up our hands, we are so often ready to receive without being prepared to give. And isn't it so much like our american consumerism to just consume? Isn't it so much like our church attitude to think about receiving at least a certain amount before actually beginning to give even an inkling back? Where do we think the prosperity gospel came from? The heart of the prosperity gospel was our misunderstanding of the practice of opening our hands. 

I cannot receive unless my hands become unclenched; but once they are unclenched, what I am saying is, God, you cannot fill my hands with your spiritual riches unless you take from my hands, the riches with which I have first filled it. And so the lyric should actually not be, you give and take away. Because the taking away comes first. And the receiving will never come until the taking comes first. The gift will never come until the giving comes first. The blessing of good preaching and an all-embracing community is vain unless we offer up our hands and knees for the fulfillment of the great commission. Because it was never intended to be done in that order. 

Although, the lyric rephrased to you take away and give me your blessings after is not your ideal lyric. Oh well. 

So with those reflections in mind, let our prayer be this Lord. You have given us all things, Lord. We do not want to rob you. As if you did not know we were withholding our investments, ha. Thank you for being gracious to us. You said: "and thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need."
 

Let the floodgates pour God.   

phileo adelphos

A name is powerful. I mean, it is the foundation; the genesis of a certain thing, a person, a nation; whatever. I've always loved names, and as I grow, I gain a capacity to soak in everything names have to offer. I remember my college days. Those moments when I got acquainted to this person and that. Names filled significant volumes of my impressions of the other. Did they say first their nicknames? what people from back home referred to them as? what they wanted for me to call them? was there a deference? was there an indifference? The question I'd always end up asking is: what is your first name or your full name? Oh..? Meredith, is it? do you know what that means? oh, and what does it mean to you; aside from the lexiconic breakdown? A lot can be known or perceived from a name. A lot can be learned. A lot can be left out. A lot can be left to mystery and discovery. A name is most certainly a sensation. And also, multiple sensations. I love names.

So I cruised through a string of mysteries last year. I met many wonderful acquaintances. With these acquaintances came with unprecedented sensations. One of these acquaintances left me with wonder and such a profound pensivity. I was intrigued, but not the kind that left me barren or petulant. This acquaintance left me satisfied, hopeful, and with both deep courage and sentimental affections. He invited me into a campus of bright scholars, and entertained my intellectual side. He gave me a picture of doing theology in an admirably traditional campus of prayerfully devoted disciples. He entertained my passion for personalities. But often times, my acquaintances were disproportionate [or maybe unbalanced] in showing me the characteristics, both good and bad, of their personalities. And isn't it right that the more wretched parts of our personalities are left to the periphery of our conversations, but the picturesque is boasted and placed in the forefront. It wasn't this way.

The runned-down buildings, the narrow streets, the nakedness of embellishments and decorations, true colors rather than bright paint freshly off the palette, houses not insufficient but also not copious, both ramshackled and built to last, naturally made speed-bumps that was never-ending, a conglomeration of rich and poor, not one was marginal and not one was central, with restaurants galore, and people of all shapes, sizes, colors. He was raw, brought down to flesh; he was human. He was not ignorant of issues. He impressed me as confrontational and it felt as if his priorities were well-organized. His complexion was fair.

Phileo was his first name. Adelphos was his last.

And I'm so glad that New Jersey is where I'm at. Visiting this acquaintance has become convenient. And I cannot forget my sentiments of when I first went. It has been stained in my mind. And it truly has been so inspirational that I have visited with others. I do believe firmly that we all have something to learn from him, and certainly something to discover. I went to him with brothers whom I love. He fed us to the full and left us wanting more. I've scratched the surface of him and he is still a mystery; and maybe as I continue to excavate into the depths, he will not be as admirable as he once use to be. But that is for another day.

Today, I'm reminded how pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity. (Psalm 133:1)

Reflections from the Pulpit [with a headnote]

Blogging is one of the most refreshing technological mediums for people boggled with thoughts on their mind. We receive so much information on a daily basis and often times opportunities do not present itself for that information to be processed. Ideas we have might bore some of our peers, so we talk about other topics of lesser depth when we gather. We are in a hyper-social and hyper-connected culture -- so much so that time alone is best protected rather than compromised. I'm thankful for blogging. But blogging is made public rather than private in order that ideas being processed might make its way to the minds of those reading; hopefully that it would make some kind of contribution, not just to the reader, but to society.

I also take pictures. And although I'm not a professional photographer, and never really intend to be, I do aim to create images of meaning; images that inspire thoughts, emotions, passions; images that inspire other images that may be even more powerful than my own, and really, I do hope that it would go on saying something, whether implicit or explicit, about the gospel that I have so unequivocally been changed by. 

I have been thinking lately of how best to integrate these two things so that I would be able to paint a fuller image with my writing, and that I wouldn't only take pleasurable images on instagram, but meaningful ones. So I've decided to always include my posts with an image and vice versa. Sometimes, the idea inspires the post, and other times, the image inspires the idea. I hope you, who are reading, would not only be encouraged by these thoughts, but that you'd be inspired -- inspired to live. I guess it's kind of a daunting task.

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Since being at Bible Church International, I have been preaching very consistently. Every Friday night I would preach to the youth. 3-4 times a year, I'd preach on Sunday. 2-3 times a year I'd preach at the monthly prayer meeting. And then, there is guest preaching. The Lord has truly challenged my life through the practice of preaching. Before, when I was simply given opportunities to preach, it was in the forefront of my mind that each time I preach, I am undeniably learning more than I actually teach. The prayer I go through, the studies I peruse, the stories I am given the grace to reminisce, and the anecdotes that I google. Sometimes, I even get to use comic strips and other creative inlets to capture the power and presence of the gospel narrative. Now, I believe and have experienced more palpably that this practice goes beyond the growth of the mind. It is a growth of the entire being. I cannot stand on the pulpit and preach a truth that I myself do not actively practice. God sanctifies me in the practice of preaching. It is a holistic growth of every part of me. My emotions, my thoughts; my life. 

I was having a conversation with my head pastor, who also is my discipler, and he told me that when he lives his life, there is little room for mistakes because he knows that the flock is watching. He said it not denying that grace covers over a multitude of sins, but he did know that when he makes a blunder, a domino effect would result. That made me reflect about my preaching because my inquiry following was whether or not my thoughts translate to praxis. When I confront sins on the pulpit of our whoring after gods created by our own hands or having fallen into the beguiling promise of full life that the American dream has to offer, do I do that same thing? Am I all talk? Does personal integrity percolate from these messages? When I speak on humility, am I prideful? When I speak on grace, am I condemning? When I speak on love, am I spiteful, bitter, and selfish? The Lord challenges me. And he leads me to my knees before the cross each time before I preach; not asking me to list to him the many ways that I've failed, but beckoning me to his all-embracing love that produces that very repentance. This leads me to my next point. 

Preaching does not make me a perfect Christian. Many of you might be thinking, "well, then there is a lot I can't be preaching because I am a sinner always in need of grace." You're right. In fact, if we could only preach on things we've succeeded on, we actually cannot preach on anything. The Apostle Paul's words in Romans, taken from a collection of Psalms, no one is righteous, no not one, no one understands, no one seeks God, comes to mind. We are not preaching a condition we have to strive for, we are preaching a condition we are already in; and we are pleading for realization -- inward and outward realization while we are positioned in the condition of holiness. As I preach, I am also confessing. Confessing that I'm in a place where, though I have thoughts, am also being sanctified. I am making the attempt to be better. It is an invitation to realize what the Lord Jesus has for us in its fullness.

With that said, I believe that preaching is also dreaming. Looking at the world as it is and dreaming as a collective of what it can be and what it will be. I've been thinking of an image for this idea for some time now and God literally poured the idea on me from the heights of the heavens. I was taking a stroll yesterday while the snow was coming down in the neighborhoods of Bayonne, NJ and the tree branches were clothed with snow. It was one of the most remarkable pieces of nature I've ever been given the privilege of seeing. This is one of the advantages we get living anywhere in the East Coast or Midwest of the United States [& apparently the south too]. The intricacy of each flake. The formation of the flakes into one unparalleled tapestry of coats and coats of pure white. The sheets of white, though cold, is also refreshing. And when it covers the land of its deep filth, we begin to taste a bit of the glory of eternity. The prayer of David resounds in my mind. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. It is like heaven touching the face of the earth. 

In preaching, as we invite others to realize with us the reality of being whiter than snow [and with the woods as a backdrop, I guess] we are saying that we don't have to look at our inadequacies, our inabilities, our depressions, our insecurities, our mediocrities, our offenses, the darkest of our darknesses, the most unaccepted of our unaccepted sins, and our most unreconciliable relationships, and wallow in them. We can dream of a reality that has been promised and needs to be realized in our mind, heart, and body. In fact, I believe that we should be dreaming of such a reality. When I preach, I am dreaming a very conscious and realistic dream. I dream of a holy nation and royal priesthood before the Spirit of God who says blessed is the one who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book.