Dear friends;
As I've mentioned before, I am now writing weekly devotional/reflection entries over at The Embassy Blog, on the official website for the young adults ministry of the Beijing International Christian Fellowship. My friends Phil and Billy are also contributing to the blog: Phil is answering questions about the Bible and the Christian life, and Billy is doing various entries on the Christian life. We'd love for you to go on over and take a look!
For the last few pieces, I've been writing reflections on the Book of Mark, which Phil and I have been reading through in February.
Who Are My Mother and Brothers? - who are we giving influence in our lives?
Responding to Jesus - what were people's responses to Jesus' presence?
Oh, To Be Clean! - how do we respond to the circumstances around us?
Big Hopes and Small Hopes - what do we rely on to give us hope?
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
In the Beginning.
Even the humblest of things can spring from a humble beginning; and this is, I fear, the humblest of beginnings. A free registration, a quick import - and done!
For a long time, I have been using various personal blogs (first my now-long-obsolete Xanga; and then my current blogspot, American Dream, Chinese Hero) to publicly muse and comment on this journey of faith within which I find myself; and all the topics thusly pertinent.
And so, one might have found within a week, posts on a new hot verse from Joe Budden, pictures of my new sneakers; photographs from a church event, commentary on race relations in Korea, and reflections on Scripture.
This multiple-personality digital beast had, somewhat sadly, to go: and now I find myself with a hydra of sorts, with this present blog being the head speaking most, I think, confusedly and blasphemously (I pray not).
For formal and informal reflections on Evangelicalism, ministry, the global Church, Scripture, and faith, seeking my name will henceforth be my venue of expression.
Names, in short, have power: when they are forced onto us (as by a schoolyard bully), they are repugnant, hateful, instruments of spite and derision. When snatched from the lips of a lover, they are glorious, shimmering, eternal things.
As a Christian, one of the things to which I cling dearly - desperately - is the thought that my name - given to me not only by my earthly parents, but my eternal Father - is written "in the Book of Life", a book within which no hand could ever dare raise the power to blot or inscribe a single character.
The Biblical conception of naming is an interesting thing: not only does a name describe who we are, a well-chosen name - a true name, as it were - prophecies (tells the truth) about who we will be. Names are not only references, but serve as stories - signifiers - prescriptions.
As a young, immature man seeking - seeking Christ, God, Grace, and Love - I think, ultimately, I and all others who are on a journey of faith are simply seeking our names. Our true, eternal, right names.
In short
For a long time, I have been using various personal blogs (first my now-long-obsolete Xanga; and then my current blogspot, American Dream, Chinese Hero) to publicly muse and comment on this journey of faith within which I find myself; and all the topics thusly pertinent.
And so, one might have found within a week, posts on a new hot verse from Joe Budden, pictures of my new sneakers; photographs from a church event, commentary on race relations in Korea, and reflections on Scripture.
This multiple-personality digital beast had, somewhat sadly, to go: and now I find myself with a hydra of sorts, with this present blog being the head speaking most, I think, confusedly and blasphemously (I pray not).
For formal and informal reflections on Evangelicalism, ministry, the global Church, Scripture, and faith, seeking my name will henceforth be my venue of expression.
Names, in short, have power: when they are forced onto us (as by a schoolyard bully), they are repugnant, hateful, instruments of spite and derision. When snatched from the lips of a lover, they are glorious, shimmering, eternal things.
As a Christian, one of the things to which I cling dearly - desperately - is the thought that my name - given to me not only by my earthly parents, but my eternal Father - is written "in the Book of Life", a book within which no hand could ever dare raise the power to blot or inscribe a single character.
The Biblical conception of naming is an interesting thing: not only does a name describe who we are, a well-chosen name - a true name, as it were - prophecies (tells the truth) about who we will be. Names are not only references, but serve as stories - signifiers - prescriptions.
As a young, immature man seeking - seeking Christ, God, Grace, and Love - I think, ultimately, I and all others who are on a journey of faith are simply seeking our names. Our true, eternal, right names.
In short
- American Dream, Chinese Hero will continue on as my informal personal blog, for dissemination of photographs, personal updates, and my music.
- Iason De Silentio - a formal ethnic studies blog, particularly touching on current events, Asian and Asian-American studies, hip-hop culture, and philosophy (primarily ethics) blog.
- and finally, as you have no doubt discovered, seeking my name - A reflective and contemplative faith and ministry blog, discussing Christian living, Evangelicalism, Scripture, and theology.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Realization
I've noticed over the past few days that I conclude a lot of conversations/meetings with people by saying "I love you". I don't think I used to do this; this isn't normal.
Is it good?
Is it good?
Monday, June 8, 2009
bene dicta, magister
It's 8:34 AM, and the streets of Ilsan are covered in a fine mist, rendering the pavement slick and slightly cool. Passing cars and buses scatter the puddles, tossing minute particles of water two or three feet into the air.
I'm out for a morning jog. Sequestered for the night earlier than I had planned, thanks to the compound effects of jetlag (despite my casually swaggering boasts of having grown accustomed to international travel, I am still impacted by the long reach of geography) and an afternoon spent out with friends, I woke at 5 AM. Completing some long-overdue tasks and emails, I decided to head out for a run, to clear my head and stretch some sorely-neglected muscles.
As I run, my mind drifts; 36 hours ago, when I was a knotted bundle of anxious tics: would my luggage clear through San Francisco onto my Seoul flight? Would the laminar plywood of my forcibly-checked skateboard (intended to be carry-on baggage) crack under the shifting mounds of luggage deep in the hold? Would my computer, with its finicky wireless connection, work in Korea? (Yes; No; Yes.)
My mind worries back and forth; 2 months ahead, with a host of invented complaints and light neuroses: will I grow prematurely bored of a repetitious summer, as I did my second summer in 北京? Will my students respond, grow, respect in the same way that they did (or did not) last year? How ought I - how must I - speak to them in such a way as to grasp at their attentions, or earn their mustered approval? What does it mean, to speak well?
The Benediction is the closing prayer of the Christian worship service, the opportunity for the presiding clergy to invoke the grace, mercy, love, and care of God for the congregants. Its roots: bene + dictio, which serve as a verbal phrase: adverb + verb: to speak well.
Context. One of the fundamentals which I've already begun drilling into my students, with which they will be well - and perhaps frustratingly - familiar by summer's end (or so I hope). What is the context of a speech made well?
My thoughts flow: a story. Bono, gregarious and irrepressible frontman and lead singer of U2, got his name from a music shop in his Irish hometown. He and his gang of youthful, gregarious, irrepressible friends used to hang around in the streets, staging absurdist plays and existentialist physical comedies. On one of the streets lay a music store, Bonovox; and so his mates began playfully referring to him as Sir Bonovox. The young Paul David Hewson disliked the moniker, at first, until he discovered the latinate roots of the word: Bono + vox, adjective + noun: good voice.
Actions speak louder than words. - American Proverb.
It occurs to me, that the phrase, "speaking well", possesses in itself two meanings: transitive and intransitive. To speak well, intransitively, means simply to speak skillfully or convincingly. "He speaks well", as synonymous with "he's a good speaker."
To speak well, transitive: in this case, however, speaking well of another. "He speaks well of her," as synonymous with "he praises her" or "he admires her."
My life is, of course, ostensibly one endowed with a career of speaking well of another: the most beloved condensation of the Christian creeds, to me, is the old chestnut, "To know Christ and make Him known". To proclaim Him; to speak well of His love for me. And it occurs to me, that, in this case at least, the transitive and intransitive uses of the verbal phrase dovetail: to speak well to those with whom I am surrounded for the summer, the most purposeful preparation is, quite simply, to speak well of the one with whom I have grown - am growing - more and more acquainted.
in nomine patri, et filii, et spiritus sancti
I'm out for a morning jog. Sequestered for the night earlier than I had planned, thanks to the compound effects of jetlag (despite my casually swaggering boasts of having grown accustomed to international travel, I am still impacted by the long reach of geography) and an afternoon spent out with friends, I woke at 5 AM. Completing some long-overdue tasks and emails, I decided to head out for a run, to clear my head and stretch some sorely-neglected muscles.
As I run, my mind drifts; 36 hours ago, when I was a knotted bundle of anxious tics: would my luggage clear through San Francisco onto my Seoul flight? Would the laminar plywood of my forcibly-checked skateboard (intended to be carry-on baggage) crack under the shifting mounds of luggage deep in the hold? Would my computer, with its finicky wireless connection, work in Korea? (Yes; No; Yes.)
My mind worries back and forth; 2 months ahead, with a host of invented complaints and light neuroses: will I grow prematurely bored of a repetitious summer, as I did my second summer in 北京? Will my students respond, grow, respect in the same way that they did (or did not) last year? How ought I - how must I - speak to them in such a way as to grasp at their attentions, or earn their mustered approval? What does it mean, to speak well?
The Benediction is the closing prayer of the Christian worship service, the opportunity for the presiding clergy to invoke the grace, mercy, love, and care of God for the congregants. Its roots: bene + dictio, which serve as a verbal phrase: adverb + verb: to speak well.
Context. One of the fundamentals which I've already begun drilling into my students, with which they will be well - and perhaps frustratingly - familiar by summer's end (or so I hope). What is the context of a speech made well?
My thoughts flow: a story. Bono, gregarious and irrepressible frontman and lead singer of U2, got his name from a music shop in his Irish hometown. He and his gang of youthful, gregarious, irrepressible friends used to hang around in the streets, staging absurdist plays and existentialist physical comedies. On one of the streets lay a music store, Bonovox; and so his mates began playfully referring to him as Sir Bonovox. The young Paul David Hewson disliked the moniker, at first, until he discovered the latinate roots of the word: Bono + vox, adjective + noun: good voice.
Actions speak louder than words. - American Proverb.
It occurs to me, that the phrase, "speaking well", possesses in itself two meanings: transitive and intransitive. To speak well, intransitively, means simply to speak skillfully or convincingly. "He speaks well", as synonymous with "he's a good speaker."
To speak well, transitive: in this case, however, speaking well of another. "He speaks well of her," as synonymous with "he praises her" or "he admires her."
My life is, of course, ostensibly one endowed with a career of speaking well of another: the most beloved condensation of the Christian creeds, to me, is the old chestnut, "To know Christ and make Him known". To proclaim Him; to speak well of His love for me. And it occurs to me, that, in this case at least, the transitive and intransitive uses of the verbal phrase dovetail: to speak well to those with whom I am surrounded for the summer, the most purposeful preparation is, quite simply, to speak well of the one with whom I have grown - am growing - more and more acquainted.
in nomine patri, et filii, et spiritus sancti
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Prologue
I begin this work in 5 minutes. Time to get focused.
Our Father Who art in Heaven;
Guide my attitude, that I might not sin against these little ones.
Guide my words, that I might teach them well.
Sanctify my heart; purify my mind; enlighten my soul.
Ad maiorem Dei gloriam, Amen
Our Father Who art in Heaven;
Guide my attitude, that I might not sin against these little ones.
Guide my words, that I might teach them well.
Sanctify my heart; purify my mind; enlighten my soul.
Ad maiorem Dei gloriam, Amen
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