god of the city

everything new

http://www.petercallesen.com/index/index2.html

real talk

im wondering why people blog. why we get tumblrs and facebooks and twitters and then complain about how much time we waste on it. i dont see how we could call it anything but addiction. addictions are escapes. we drink and smoke because we need to escape reality, escape the humdrum monotony of everyday life. we get addicted to things like warcraft or call of duty because we want to escape our irrelevancy. we want a world where we can be good at something, where we can make progress. isnt blogging or facebook or twitter just another form of escape? we want so badly to escape our loneliness. we want other people to know us, to know our thoughts, to know what we're doing, where we're eating, who we are. or at least who we present ourselves to be. i blog about the things i blog about because i want you to see me a certain way. blogging, facebook, and twitter, after all, are simply about creating an image for yourself. i have become addicted to image production. it helps me escape the fact that i am actually broken, inadequate, and needy when maybe the acknowledgement of these things is what i needed from the start.

i think it's a good thing that everyone and their moms is giving up facebook for lent. this is probably why the early monastic tradition is filled with solitude and silence. when you're by yourself with your own thoughts, there's no need for addiction. you can't run from anything. your entire self--brokenness and all--can only be repressed for so long when you dont have tv or internet to distract you. i think lent is a good time to get back to that.

in defense of Grace

I've been trying for an unnecessary amount of time to think of a funny way to intro this post, but alas I give up. The subject matter is too serious and the News too good to distill it with my feeble attempts at humor. No bs. Here are some excerpts from the book Between Noon and Three, by Robert Farrar Capon:

"Do you see... that it means that I may well be wicked at any time, but that I am free for all time of any condemnation for my wickedness? And that therefore I am free to be wicked, monumentally or shakily, alone or with others, in thought, word, or deed - and with no limits upper or lower my whole life long - and still remain free of my wickedness? Was there any way I could have told you that truth without some shock to your system?"

"Therefore let me lay aside my apologist's bag of tricks for one paragraph and say, as a plain Christian man, what you quite rightly fear I am really saying. There is indeed no horror, no wickedness, no evil - no cruelty, no torture, no holocaust in the whole history of the world - that is not, under the sovereignty of grace, already reconciled in Jesus. And there is no perpetrator of any horror, wickedness, evil, et cetera (up to and including Hitler and your dreadful brother-in-law) who is not, in Jesus, forgiven. That is the Gospel, the Good News, without which we are all obviously dead ducks. But it is also, from where we sit, the most outrageous piece of bad news the world has ever heard because it says quite clearly that, on the basis of anything we can know or feel about the goodness of creation, God is bad. All I can say is that I know and feel that too, and that I can only believe in a God who asks me to trust his Word to the contrary in Jesus crucified and risen... So much, then, for the total honesty of faith. Back to the comforts of theology."

"But all the while, there was one thing we most needed even from the start, and certainly will need from here on out into the New Jerusalem: the ability to take our freedom seriously and act on it, to live not in fear of mistakes but in the knowledge that no mistake can hold a candle to the love that draws us home. My repentance, accordingly, is not so much for my failings but for the two-bit attitude toward them by which I made them more sovereign than grace. Grace - the imperative to hear the music, not just listen for errors - makes all infirmities occasions of glory."

"It is Jesus who saves us, not we ourselves. He dies for us while we are still sinners, not after we have managed to get our act under control. He is lifted up to draw all unto himself, not just those who are willing to break their appointments with the compromises of their lives. His reconciliation of all things in heaven and earth is a fact, conditional upon nothing but his own free choice - on nothing but his totally one-sided act of dropping dead on the cross."

"Jesus came to raise the dead. Not to reform the reformable, not to improve the improvable."

"Everyone who is drawn to Christ, whether now or at the last day, comes with his loser's grip on his own life broken, absolved by death. And that means, quite astonishingly, that Christ judges us only as he holds us, not as we hold ourselves. And since he holds us reconciled, it means that the judgment is, in some vast and fundamental sense, rigged in our favor."

"[Grace] is a love affair with an unlosable lover"

The church needs this message. The world, unchurched, needs this message. Yes, it borders on heresy, relativism, universalism... people will argue against it and with good reason. But the Scriptures point again and again to a God who loves and has saved the entire world. It's too late - my prescription has been adjusted and the world looks so much more beautiful through the lenses of Grace. Let the world know: there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, there is nothing we have ever done in the past and nothing we can ever do in the future, nothing in all creation that can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus. Alleluia, amen.

(get the book or come borrow it from me!)

Why Chinese Mothers Are Destroying The Church

Amy Chua recently published an article in The Wall Street Journal arguing why the Chinese parenting style is conducive to high achievement. To her I humbly respond: Shut the f up.

When one of your primary goals is to justify why calling your child "stupid," "worthless," or "a disgrace" is a beneficial parenting practice, then you is a freakin maniac or what Zach Galifianakis has coined as "the ruhtard."

What really angered me most though--and this is the crazy part--was that the article was true. This IS why Chinese kids are so great. This IS why we succeeded in school, became prodigies on the piano, and were given the debilitating "model minority" label. Like it or not, the values held in high esteem by the older generations do not simply disappear when American-borns stick their middle fingers up at the family tree--it is ingrained in us. And the church has not escaped that influence. Part of the reason this article was so difficult for me to read is because I know that this mindset is alive and well inside Asian churches and it is robbing the Gospel of its power.

How can you expect a church to understand Grace when all we've ever heard is that acceptance comes only as a result of high achievement?

How can you know the Loving Father when all you've ever seen is the belt-wielding, unresponsive father? (You might understand the whole "fearing God" thing, though)

How can you ever understand Freedom and personal faith if you've never had a say in your own passions and if everything has always been black and white, do and don't?

How can you ever understand Jesus if your goal in life is success?

The list goes on.

Don't get me wrong--Chinese ideology has its benefits too. Hard work and discipline as well as hard work and discipline are positive contributions of the system. Oh, and I almost forgot about hard work and discipline. These are things that can’t be ignored for Christians seriously pursuing Jesus. However, Chinese thinking has created a very distinct and, in my opinion, destructive church culture that has to be acknowledged and addressed, especially by folks in my generation.

I have friends who practically do everything for their church. I rarely see them all year because they're always busy, and when we do get to touch base for a little while, they always seem tired and frazzled. They serve their church because they love their church, but I can't help but see all of their efforts and ask, "What's the point of your hard work? To pull God down from heaven all by yourself? To impress him?" Maybe Asian American church leaders have only transferred their achievement-mindedness to the church sphere. Now, God becomes just another unemotional parent figure who chastises us while he swings the gai mo so.

And you'd think Chinese people would eat up an idea like Grace. I mean, it's a free giveaway of God's love and I KNOW Chinese people love free giveaways. But nah, this Grace thing just doesn't seem to make sense to us. I've heard it too many times, people that seem convinced that they're "not good or holy enough" to get baptized. I think that these kinds of ideas break the heart of a God who has always chosen sinners.

I'm rambling, but a couple more points. The example in the article where the mom forces her daughter to get the piano song right... this might work with piano, but it doesn't transfer over to faith. You don't practice faith until you like it or until it becomes easy; if you’re forced to practice faith, then perhaps it isn't really your faith. And if faith is something our parents simply forced upon us, we eventually reach the point where we either find ways to make it personally meaningful or we drop it altogether (which is what happens a lot in college). Our orderliness and black-and-white nature make the Asian church susceptible to the manufacturing of robots. We’ve been told and programmed what to do; we know the answers, we can do the practices, but we don't know how to ask questions or to think for ourselves.

I used to be optimistic about change. Now, I'm not so sure. Asian churches are generational; children's faiths often look a lot like parents' faiths; we are set in our ways. I understand why, historically, the Asian American church is the way it is. Especially for folks in San Francisco, churches were (and are) literally, sanctuaries. For immigrants coming in without a grasp of English and without a lot of resources, church was a good community. Away from angry white people, around those who understand you, throw in a God who helps the oppressed and you got yourself a formula for success. No wonder Asian American churches have a strong sense of community, a big passion for inreach and a value for taking care of their own, but also typically ignore things like social justice, radical giving, and missions. The Asian church in America was built on self-centeredness.

And it worked. We succeeded. We achieved the American dream. Thank God our Chinese mothers never gave up on us. We became middle and upper-class citizens and we praised Him for it. Church was our original safe haven and we moved out to the suburbs to cling even more tightly to our comfort. We ran from the suffering we once endured and we had cute kids and sent them to Sunday school to learn about Jonah without realizing the irony that one day the whale might come and get us too. We are running from Jesus Christ, the one who told us to give away everything, to be last, and to love our enemies. We baptize each other in lukewarm water and call it discipleship.

The answer, obviously, is not simply to sprint in the opposite direction. God knows that this generation has abandoned discipline and hard work to our own detriment. Also, I needa check myself to make sure that this isn't some lame postmodern, free-thinker, everything-is-good-if-it-comes-from-the-heart kind of rant. But I believe there needs to be a shift and that people like Amy Chua need to be taken down and burned at the stake. Jk about the last part, but yes. I love the Asian American church. I really honestly do. I understand filial piety and I respect our esteem for tradition, but the Gospel must trump culture in every instance, and if ethnic barriers keep us from fully following Jesus, then they gotta come down. It'll be a slow process, but someone's gotta do it.

And of course, I'm projecting. Forgive me if you believe the judgments in this post to be incorrect, for there is a huge plank that is obstructing my vision. Yet I am confident for both myself and the church that he who began a good work will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Since the TV went out, I've been doing a lot of reading.

Every once in awhile when you read something--and it's the same way with music--it seems like everything in the universe boils down to the words in front of you. Like, the timing that you read it, what you're going through in real life, the room you're in, your mood, the tone of the words--they all just come together and hit you like a ton of bricks.

It happened about a month ago that I read the epilogue to Michael Spencer's Mere Churchianity. It's a one-page epilogue and it's an entry from his journal. It's impossible that you will read it the same way I did because our contexts are different, but I hope that on some level you will connect with it as I have. This small text has influenced the way I walk and pray and fight and I hope you will find some kind of good in it.

Michael Spencer died six months after he wrote this. Be blessed...

At approximately 1pm EST, the doctor's office called to tell me there were matters of concern on the CT scan. So no matter how long one has resisted the reality that the journey will take this turn, the turn arrives without permission and without the agreement that I will be able to find some mental tactic to live in denial. The next chapter arrives at its own time with its own contents, and I must open it now.

Like it or not, this is what I must live with, worship with, pray with, and love with today. This is my life as it comes to me from God. This is the God I know in Jesus. This is the God who gives my life significance. Whatever I am... or whatever I hope to be comes in the love of this God for me. The day is about receiving God's love; enjoying God's love; placing my many, many fears in God's love. This is today: a new turn, a new chapter, the same loving Father whom Jesus called Abba.

Every word of the Gospel is written to men who will be dead but are now alive by the mercy of God. This is my life and the life of all other persons.

NBA 2k11 and Advent

I had fasted from NBA 2k11 for 40 days. I postponed Nate Lee's budding NBA career, a season with the Warriors, reliving Michael Jordan's greatest moments, and owning Sammy Lee for 40 whole days.

When my fast ended, our TV broke...

Since then, I have been doing an involuntary fast.

When the TV went out, it honestly felt like God was kicking me in the groin. Repeatedly.

Like, I did this for you God, and this is how you're gonna reward me?? By breaking my TV? I didn't know that's how you rolled, G-man. Now the TV just sits there in our living room, staring at me as if to say, "Oh hey what's up Nate. You want me? You like how I look? Do you miss the lovin I used to give you? You miss your Warriors and your Netflix? Well too bad! I'm just a useless box taking up 43 inches of your living room now! That's what you get for buying me off Craigslist!!" Sometimes, I just want to punch him in the face. I mean, if he were a person. Which he's not.

But, in my infinite patience and wisdom, I have of course extracted a valuable lesson from this unfortunate happenstance. It is especially applicable for life right now because we are in the season of Advent, and in many ways, I am learning about waiting.

Advent is about preparing for Jesus' coming. Similarly, I am waiting for the coming of a new TV (Thanks Sammy and Black Friday!). As blasphemous as that is, I am realizing how hard it is to be on the edge of the arrival of something good, but knowing that it is still a ways off. Waiting is not fun. Sometimes we lose faith that the thing we are waiting for will ever really come. And when it comes, will it even be all that it's hyped up to be? In regards to my future, am I willing to wait for God to show me where he wants me to be? I feel like I'm perpetually trapped in this waiting, in-between period of who I am now and who I want to be. I don't think this kind of waiting will ever be satisfied. For those of us going through hard times, stuck in our Exiles of joblessness, loneliness, bad grades, or just plain weariness, do we really have faith that our waiting will be rewarded, as God always promised to Israel?

My favorite blog, internetmonk.com, puts it like this:

The main cry of one who practices the form of prayer called “lament” is, “How long?”That’s how people who live perpetually in-between think and pray. We know we can’t go back to some golden age in the past. We know we have not yet arrived at the new creation promised to us. We live in-between. We long for in-between to end. Like children in the back seat, we must be a continual annoyance to our Father—“Are we there yet?”

For hundreds of years Israel waited. A lot of them died waiting. When Jesus finally came, he was not what they were waiting for. Maybe that's how God works. Perhaps my TV will not bring the fulfillment I am hoping for. Ok, I know the TV will not bring that fulfillment. But in the meantime, I must be ok with life post-TV and pre-new TV. I must also be ok with not knowing where my future is heading. I have to be ok with waiting. There is no point in making myself a nice little cocoon woven out of self-pity and anxiety; the waiting period is not a time of wallowing in worry. God wants me here, even if I know I am not currently who I want to be. I hold onto my faith and I hope that, by his good pleasure, I will safely arrive at home.

We are beggars. This is true.

My favorite line of all Sufjan Stevens songs—

“Tuesday night at the Bible study/we lift our hands and pray over your body/but nothing ever happens.”

…

Yes…?

Please continue, Sufjan…

Sing the part that goes, “Next Tuesday night at the following Bible study/we lift our hands and pray over your body one more time/and then you get healed”

Surprise! That line never comes.

But cmon surressly now, who puts a line like that in a song? No one cares about that shizz. The songs about miracles and healings and victory—those are the songs that sell.

But there’s something crazy about that one line. It’s just so… human. And I think that’s something that’s hard for some people to really admit—

We are human. It is quite unfortunate sometimes.

And we often live our lives in denial of that fact. We act like believing in Jesus somehow transfigures us into beings that are no longer human. We become so convinced that faith inevitably leads to complete and total healing, victory, deliverance, whatever you wanna call it… but it doesn’t.

No matter how many miracles we see, testimonies we hear, times we read the Bible, or prayers we have answered... our doubts will never leave us completely. We may never be fully healed of our loneliness. We will never not be broken. Sorry. These are ripples of prosperity gospel, and they simply aren’t true.

God does not pull us out of our humanity. Instead he comes into it. The moment we try so hard to be like Jesus or to live a life that is righteous enough or to move beyond our humanity, we nullify God's grace. We do not need a God if we are trying to become one. Adam and Eve learned that the hard way.

There are so many hurting people in church. They need to know that they can be fully human. It is ok that you are trying to believe in God and you still feel lost, alone, or afraid. God and brokenness are not mutually exclusive. In fact, we desperately need our brokenness. The miracles turn into testimonies and the healings make the headlines and it is easy for the very human experiences of faith to be silenced. The Christian life is not experienced through miracle after miracle. It is an everyday war. And when we win, Jesus is with us. And when we lose, Jesus is with us.

I believe in miracles and healings and all those beautiful, God-honoring things. But I honestly believe that God looks the most perfect in our lives when we look the most imperfect. Please, everyone, be human.

sometimes i need to be reminded

how small i am...

click to enlarge

"the possible and the impossible are the same--they are both smaller than God"

Psychology and Faith

I'm a psych major.

That means when I first met you, I could already tell what kind of person you were because you had your hands in your pockets, you scratched your right cheek every time you talked about your roommate, and you licked your lips every once in awhile, which meant that you were physically attracted to me. There's empirical research to back that last one up.

One big thing that you take away as a psych major, especially if you take a class like social psych, is that the mind is a very powerful and, at the same time, a very feeble thing. Powerful in the sense that it can control so much of your behavior without you even knowing and feeble in the sense that it can be altered so easily and so subtly... take, for example, studies done on mental priming or subliminal thought.

There was a study done on young adults to test the power of mental priming. So they would tell the participant to form a sentence using words from a word bank. The control group would receive a word bank with neutral words, maybe something like, "paper; on; sits; desk" and the sentence would be "The paper sits on the desk." The experimental group, however, would be

primed with old people words like "wrinkles" or "arthritis" or "Florida" haha. And then they made the sentence with those words. After they submitted their sentences, the researchers timed the participants on how long it took them to walk down the hall and out of the building. Crazy thing is, the participants who were primed with the old people words took a significantly longer time to exit the building than the control group. Conclusion: the old people words primed them to feel old, so they walked slower, like old people do! Crazy.

There are other amazing studies. A picture can flash on my computer screen so quickly that my brain can't even process it, and it can still profoundly affect my behavior. I can be convinced that 2+2=5 if there are enough people around me that believe it's true... that one's pretty intense. Maybe you know where this is going...

These studies show me one thing: the mind can be manipulated and molded in so many ways that we don't even notice or understand. The way we act and behave, what we believe, the smallest everyday decisions we make are all influenced by small and seemingly insignificant things we come across in our lives. It's scary if you think about it too much.

I was thinking about the idea of Truth. If the mind is such a fragile thing, how can anyone claim rights to complete Truth? The religious right might believe that they have a monopoly on truth the same way the Catholic church might believe that they have a monopoly on truth the same way the Mormon church, the same way the most evil man in the world... Truth seems so relative when I take into consideration all the ways the mind can be manipulated and even tricked. I know very well how easy it is to jump right on board with an eloquent preacher, a captivating worship song, or a feel-good message. These things aren't bad, but they do, to an extent, mold your mind more and more into... something--whether that something is right or wrong is another question.

If you know me, you know that my mind is often filled with doubts and questions like these. I fear the manipulative power of organized religion. I really do. I've seen Jesus Camp. That shizz is scary. I sometimes question myself, if I've somehow allowed myself to get lost in this fog. If I'm just living in some state of ignorance or self-delusion, if this whole faith thing is just something I fell into that I'm now trying to convince myself is the real deal. I think what makes it harder is that many Christians just seem so sure, as if certainty was the prerequisite for spiritual maturity. Let your doubts be buried; trust more, pray more, and then God will work. I hold tight to spiritual giants like Mother Teresa and Martin Luther who could not separate their unfailing obedience to God with their most damning doubts.

If there is anything that keeps me grounded, though, it is the homeless refugee bastard baby Jesus Christ (bastard bc he didn't have an earthly father. I ain't being disrespectful!). To me, Jesus is so captivating a person, such a pure embodiment of--yes--Truth, that I cannot remain unchanged by the life he lived. I still have my questions about the Old Testament, about the Holy Spirit, about Paul's letters, about the present day church, but as long as I know that Jesus is the center of this entire thing, I know that there is something here worth living for. All human manipulation and distortion cannot change the person of Jesus. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.

Chinatown Lunch Lady

I'm working at church this summer. One thing we do for the kiddies is provide them with delicious government lunch everyday. It usually consists of a bologna sandwich, maybe goldfish, and--a new addition this year--packaged cucumbers or jicama. I'm not sure why anyone would package jicama and give it to kids as part of government lunch, but whatever. What is jicama anyways??

Every week, this Chinese lady comes and checks up on us, makes sure that we're running procedure and protocol correctly, and collects the receipts we receive from the delivery man and paperwork that we have to fill out every time we distribute lunch. I don't know her name, but I assume it's Wendy, because I think most fobby Chinese women are named Wendy (I'm serious. I know like 5 Wendys/Wendies who are really fobby. This theory is a branch off of a larger theory that fobby Chinese parents prefer female names that end in "ndy," which is a branch off of an even larger theory that fobby Chinese parents, for both genders, prefer names that end in "y"). So, every week Wendy comes around sporting her excessively large backpack, walking at a very brisk and determined pace, and she asks me with her Chinese accent if I have all the paperwork from the previous week. Usually, it's a very tedious and frustrating process for us both because we don't fill out our paperwork correctly. She gets frustrated and stands there impatiently as I fix the mistakes we've made on our lunch forms. And I swear the woman has no sense of humor. If I try to say a joke to lighten the mood/distract her from our incorrect paperwork, homegirl has no response. Straight up stoneface. Like, seriously, lighten up. I imagine going from lunchsite to lunchsite is pretty monotonous, I would expect that she'd appreciate me trying to add some fun into her job, but nooo.

Anyways, Wendy came last Thursday to watch us do lunch and make sure our protocol was correct. She also informed me that I was missing a delivery receipt from the previous week. This is bad. Wendy don't mess around. And I knew we didn't have the receipt. I knew where it was. Sitting on my desk. At home. Because I popped it in my pocket one day instead of putting it in our lunch folder where it belongs. F. So in her Christlike grace and mercy, Wendy says, "I come back to tomorrow, you have receipt." I say, "Yes maam!"

I forgot the receipt. I made the reminder on my phone. But when it went off, I was dancing. At a church dance (who has church dances? ... that's a post for another time). I forgot about it until the following morning. You know that feeling you get when you're lying in bed about to fall asleep and then realize that you forgot about that one big homework assignment due the next day? Yeah it was like that. You get that droopy feeling in your stomach and you say something like "freakin crap!!" So I tell the 5 or so people around me to pray that Wendy doesn't come. I was so scared that I'd be minding my own business, chillin with the kiddies, and then I'd see her and her oversized backpack coming up the stairs. She'd ask for the receipt and I'd look at the floor and admit that I had forgotten... And to make it worse, sometimes she comes at the very end of the day. So pretty much from 7:30am to 4pm I was on edge, asking God again and again, "Don't let Wendy come. Don't let Wendy come."

And she didn't come.

But the whole ordeal reminded me of something. I wrote about this maybe as my second or third post ever, but it came back in vivid fashion with this experience...

I don't ever want my relationship with Jesus to be like this, knowing that I'm not right and praying everyday, "God, don't let today be judgment day, don't let today be Jesus' second coming." Do it on a day where I haven't done anything wrong. Do it on a day that we do a service project or when I have Bible study, but not today, because today I was impatient with my friend or I looked at porn or I cheated on a test...

What a terrible way to live. The Bible says that it is for freedom that we have been set free. Even though I still think that that verse is redundant and confusing, it's still true. We've been set free--but that freedom can still be distorted into bondage if used incorrectly. Real freedom means that we can live without fear, be it from judgment day or from Wendy, the stone-hearted Chinatown lunch lady. God's kindness leads us to redemption, not his anger or judgment or our fear of those things. I think once I realize this, things will get easier. But for now, pray that Wendy doesn't come (I'll ask her this week what her real name is).

On Faith and Baseball

There was one year that I tried to play fantasy baseball. That crap is dumb. First of all, there are too many players and they play too often--you can't keep track. Second of all, you can't tell if players are doing well because their numbers are so low. A good game is like 3 hits or something. If 3 is the highest number that you get to see on a given day, then count me out. That's not exciting at all.
But I think the real reason I hated fantasy baseball is because I didn't really know much about baseball. I know some Giants players and I know that I hate the Yankees. I also know that Tim Lincecum is raw and he smokes pot and that I like him for those reasons, but that's really about it. So I updated my fantasy baseball roster for about 3 weeks until I realized that it was useless. If I really wanted to get excited about fantasy baseball the way I do about basketball, then I would have to do tons of research and study on all the baseball players so that I would know what I was doing. Needless to say, I did not put in that effort. Bottom line, fantasy baseball sucks.

And really, I sense a similar theme in my faith. It's frustrating sometimes. I look at the Scriptures and I see a very one-sided image of faith. When Jesus describes what the Kingdom is like, he is clear about how to enter: it's an all-or-nothing kind of deal. Again and again I only see that Jesus wants followers who have left everything for his sake. There is no middle ground, no indecision, no going back and forth. You cannot simply dip your toes into the water, you gotta dive into it headfirst.
And that scares the hell out of me. And maybe it's supposed to. Or maybe it's supposed to scare the heaven into me. Regardless, sometimes I wonder if my current struggles with faith are only a result of my middle-ground-ness. That as I am dipping my toes into the Living Water, I am only doing a disservice to myself. Either I dive in, or I go completely back on land. Maybe this is why Jesus gets so mad about people being lukewarm--it just doesn't do anyone any good.
I think my faith is like fantasy baseball. I simply cannot invest myself entirely into it. It is not natural for me. If I want to truly experience the real joy of fantasy baseball--the full life that Jesus promises--then I have to go all in. There is no other way.
I remind myself that it is a process. I know it is. The disciples, even after following Jesus for a couple years, were still greedy sometimes, jealous too, and a few turned their backs on Jesus at times. I find comfort in how stupid the disciples were. Yet they had one thing going for them the whole time--they had left everything behind to follow Jesus. Even if they were dumb sometimes, they had nonetheless taken that first extraordinary step of faith, leaving behind house, family, money, possessions to follow Jesus.
Sigh. Sometimes I wonder if we're doing faith all wrong. I look at the Word and see one picture of discipleship. The first step always seems to be getting rid of all or most of your possessions. That's the first step! He told his disciples to do it, he told the rich young ruler to do it, Zaccheus did it, he told the church in Laodicea to do it... sometimes I wonder if I'm only running in place because I haven't taken that first step yet. Dang that sentence was deep.
Well, I'm getting too serious now. Bottom line, fantasy baseball sucks.

christian guys are really gay

said my friend Ryan one time. "It's because Christianity looks down on you if you get too close to a girl, so guys just take it out on other guys."

Amen amen.

I ended up using Ryan's quote on an anthropology paper once. Got a B+. I think it's pretty true though. Christian culture forces people to think creatively on how to be social. For example, it forces us to find ways to have fun without alcohol. This is why Christians love board games and can come up with these ridiculous games like Table of Death and the "spin around and jump over a stick" game. When you really think about it, some of it is down right foolish. But they're fun. And they're generally wholesome. Everyone wins.
Likewise, when it comes to relationships, guy-girl contact in a Christian context is dangerous. Most guys play it safe. If a guy needs to release some sexual energy, he'll most likely end up massaging some other dude or getting in a wrestling match or something like that. I dunno. I'm only generalizing. This topic is just kinda awkward.

The guy in this picture is obviously not Christian...

But the truth is, Christian guys are especially gay towards one another. There's no huge attempt at being pc right now, so let's just put it all out there. Christian guys just touch each other. Not in a nasty way, but just as a "wassup, we're homeboys, I can't get too close to that cute girl right now, so imma just hold you" kinda thing. No biggie.
And if you're not a Christian and you're reading this like wtf, then I totally understand. Especially considering the American church's stance on homosexuality, this probably doesn't make much sense. Or maybe it does... because the church is also infamously hypocritical. I dunno. This post is not about the church's views on homosexuality. I don't even wanna get into that. Ok let's just get back to the important stuff. About guys touching each other.

Ok, really, I don't even really wanna talk about that anymore. It was supposed to be a segue into guy-girl relationships in the church, but I just kept rambling about church gayness. This is what I really wanted to talk about:

I've noticed something difficult about church culture and its unspoken views on romantic relationships. It's such an odd and frustrating thing... Basically, it comes down to this basic principle:

If you are a Christian in a romantic relationship and you are not spayed or neutered, you are setting yourself up for a crapload of guilt.

That's just how it is. And let's be honest here, church doesn't talk about sex very often (unless you're studying Ecclesiastes), so I think it's important that it can get acknowledged once in awhile because it's something that affects a ton of Christian people who are passionate both to their significant other and to their God. They're not mutually exclusive. But the simple fact that we have hormones means that--unfortunately--we're gonna want sex... Dang this is awkward... And it just sucks that a lot of Christians who are romantically involved see their relationships with God slowly go to the crapper because being sexually involved with someone just feels a lot more exciting than reading the Bible... Dang this post is gonna get me trouble... It just bothers me a lot that getting into a relationship seems to automatically put you in a downward slope with God... And whose fault is that? Is it our fault that we want to be physically involved? Is it the church's fault for staying silent on the subject while imposing rules and making us feel guilty when we can't keep them? Is it God's fault for making us this way and for calling us to such a high standard? It's all just confusing to me.

Do I think that there is such a thing as a genuinely Christ-centered relationship? Of course I do. But the very very honest reality is that romantic relationships for Christians is freaking difficult. And maybe this is why guy-girl contact is so frowned upon in church circles. Ahh yes, it all makes sense now. This post has indeed come full circle. There's nothing left to really say but, guys, continue only getting close to other guys. That way, we stay safe, uninhibited, and guilt-free.

soulja boy off in dis... no

So I was just chillin in my room one night a couple weeks ago and I overhear my mom and sister talking in the hallway. I think my sister is telling my mom about the music she likes or some videos that she watched on youtube (my sister is 11 by the way) and all of the sudden... no it can't be... how does she.... wow.

"soulja boy off in this hoo, watch me crank it watch me rooolll, watch me crank that soulja boy then superman that hoo"

Oh hell no. My sister was NOT singing soulja boy. I'm pretty sure she had no idea what she was actually singing, but seriously now. And my mom is pretty clueless about these things too so I don't blame her. And I know I was definitely 100x worse than my sister in terms of my potty mouth and the music I listened to. But cmon now. This is my sister here. She's an innocent witto girl. I think she learned it from that kevjumba wannabe nigahiga. You guys know him? Thinkin he's all cool and funny with his spiky hair and weird way that he talks. He actually is pretty funny, but yo anyone who corrupts my sister's mind is a terrible terrible man!

And this, of course, got me thinking. Maybe this is how God sees us. I'll be off singing soulja boy and God will be like, "What the shizz. Nate, who taught you that?" And I'll say something like, "Yeah I just heard it somewhere and it had this hecka tight dance that went with it. It just got stuck in my head!"
The world sings a similar song. It could be analogous to the way I treat money, sex, clothes... God might ask, "Nate, who taught you that money would bring you happiness?" "Who told you that sex is the only way to have intimacy?" "Who told you that clothes give you your identity?" I'll answer, "Well, I saw it on TV and it looked like it made people happy, so I thought I'd try."

I don't love my sister any less just because she's singing soulja boy in the same way that God doesn't love us any less when we eff up. It's just not what I wanna hear her singing. Hannah Montana, maybe even that Justin Bieber haha. But not soulja boy. Anyone but soulja boy.Wow this kid looks hecka foolish haha

I guess I could go different directions with this experience. Why God gives us commandments. Why it's bad to "stumble" people. But I think in the end it's something everyone can understand. Would you want YOUR kid singing soulja boy around the house? I would hope not. God's grace is enough. But sometimes it's good for us to realize when we're singing stupid songs with our lives.

after urbana

I'm pretty sure you know Outkast. They haven't done a whole lot lately, but a couple years ago they were pretty popular. Now I dunno if you remember the movie Soul Food, which came out in 1997...I don't actually remember the movie, but the album was hecka good, and outkast had a song on there called "in due time," which is one of my favorite songs of all time. You should listen to it when you get a chance. Actually, listen to it right now. Here's a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9QF3jFiipzk. You're welcome. But I was reminded of the song while I was at urbana, which is this huge Christian conference thingy in St. Louis...
There are two lines that popped in my head as I was talking to one of the leaders there.

1. "you lookin to be the butterfly without the caterpillar" and
   
2. "you lookin to be big willy but you still a seed boy"
   

Dang... some profound shiz right there.
But these lines came up as I listened to the speakers-- these were men and women who were doing things in the world, who you could see believed in something. Many of them lived with the poor and a lot of them shed tears as they spoke because they were so passionate about the cause of the gospel. In other words, these were spiritual giants--the Lebrons and Monta Ellises of Christianity. It eventually led me to ask, "Dang. When will I get like that?"
And that's when those lines came in... I think the more I learn about Jesus, the more I learn that I have so much more to learn. Did that make sense? Probably not. But I think I have this image of who I wanna be, but then I realize that I'm nowhere close to that. Sometimes God has to remind me, "Nate, you lookin to be big willy but you still a seed boy."

I think the Christian life is filled with rumors. And I think this is why the speakers at Urbana were so engaging and why everyone loves to hear good stories, because it opens us up to other people's experiences. I love to hear my uncles tell me about what their lives were like when they were younger because it opens up a world that I don't know and that I can never go to. But those stories will forever be rumors. I can't ever prove that my uncle did this or that. And church is the same way. I hear from the pulpit, "Jesus doesn't make life easier, but he makes it better" (my pastor loves to say that) but then why do so many people leave Jesus behind when they get to college? I hear "Jesus loves you" but why do I still feel lonely? I hear "Jesus is in the least of these" but how will I ever know? And don't get me wrong, I think these things are beautiful, but I believe that some people think that hearing rumors over and over again is the same as actually experiencing them... I think I'm reaching the point where I'm getting tired of rumors. I wanna see if they're true. If Jesus says that he is the poor, the sick, and the imprisoned, then dangit I better go to those places. If Jesus says that he'll provide for me when I seek his kingdom, then I have to test that promise.
For me, it's kinda like Cheesecake Factory. Man I love that place. Every freakin summer, they get so much money outta me. But I can tell you how good it is, I can make you sing songs about their fried macaroni, and you can even read a book about their restaurant philosophy, but until I take you there on a warm summer night and let you eat on the outdoor patio overlooking the city, you will never know the goodness that is the Cheesecake Factory.
And I think that's the big difference between the speakers at Urbana and many pastors I know--the speakers at Urbana spoke out of their deep experiences whereas I might hear something from a pastor and take it as truth, but really it was just something they heard from another pastor, who heard it from another pastor, who heard it from John Piper (haha). I think it's time for me to stop talking and thinking and to finally start doing something about Jesus. And maybe hecka years from now, after God has led me into different experiences and adventures, I'll no longer be a seed, but I'll be able to say with confidence that I am big willy. Whatever the heck that means.

On Church Membership

As of this past Sunday, I'm officially a member of First Chinese Baptist Church. Yay? Well, actually, I'm not a full member. Because I was baptized by pouring and not by immersion, I can only be an associate member. Questionable policy, to say the least. I think they're gonna put an asterisk by my name in the church directory...And, as an associate member, I am unable to vote on property issues. Theologically, this makes sense because when you're only baptized by pouring or sprinkling, you automatically receive impaired judgment on property issues.
Anyways, membership is such a weird thing. I hated it at first. First of all, that crap is not biblical. Second of all, I didn't like that certain privileges were kept from me because I didn't have the title of member, even though I had been going to church there for a long time. I think it's these kinds of church politics issues that really bug me. Sigh. Complaints aside, it's actually been a big blessing taking membership classes these past 5 or 6 weeks with my senior pastor. I thought it would be tough to sit through, but I really enjoyed hearing what he believes and the kinds of things he's passionate about. Although I wasn't particularly fond of the book we went through (called "The Family of God"), it was a good experience overall. And last week I gave my testimony and the existing church membership voted on me haha. And waddya know, I made it!
I think God's been leading me down this really weird road with fcbc. It's a love/hate kind of relationship maybe. If you're a faithful reader of this blog (thank you), then you know the struggles I've had with church. And for the most part, I still believe strongly that my church has issues, but I can't deny the fact that God has been leading me to be more involved there.
It's weird. Freshmen year, I remember I was so excited that I was away from fcbc, going to Living Water. LW was great. It had a passionate pastor, amazing musicians, cool people, AND free food after service (which was better than the baos at fcbc). (these are baos, which are still delicious)
I guess that's where God wanted me at that time, the place that would serve me best in my first couple years in college. Maybe I'm in a better place now to go to fcbc and serve there. I'm glad. Glad that I know where I'm supposed to be and that God has been faithful in leading me here.

Golden State Warriors and the Church

My first Warriors game was in 1999. We played the Sonics. I remember I was excited after we won that game because the Sonics were actually ranked #1 on Kobe Bryant's NBA Courtside on n64. Back in those days, John Starks was the Stephen Jackson and I remember him hoisting up three threes in a row. He missed the first two but made the last one and he threw his arms up in the air to pump up the crowd...
Back then, Bimbo Coles ran the point, Antawn Jamison was a rookie, and Donyell Marshall was our best player. There was no Roaracle, no "We Believe." If you were a Warriors fan in the 90s, that says something about you. It says that you know how to persevere, how to tolerate pain, and it means that you're probably a little irrational. But to be a Warriors fan in the 90s meant something.
And then "We Believe" happened... I'm not hating on our playoff run, but it changed things. All of the sudden, everyone at school was wearing JRich and Baron jerseys, nerds started talking about the games, and even girls were getting on the hype... something wasn't right. It simply wasn't fair. Just because you're wearing a throwback Warriors jersey and your MySpace says that Monta's your "boo" doesn't mean that you're a legit fan!! You never suffered through the years of Jason Caffey and Chris Mills!! You never fell in love with Adonal Foyle!! And you don't know the pain of watching Vince get ROY when Antawn gets an embarrassing All-Rookie 2nd team alongside Michael Olowakandi...
Do you consider yourself a Warriors fan? Examine yourself. Do you remember when the Warriors used to play on Channel 36 (6 for you kids who had cable)? Do you remember Vonteego? Mookie? Muggsy? Terry Cummings? Jimmy Jackson? Do you remember the hope of Musselman? The pain of Mike Montgomery? ... That's what I thought.

The Church is the same way, you know? There was a time when being a Christian meant something. When, if you claimed that title, people looked at you funny. It meant that you were a radical, a troublemaker, and that you were probably a little irrational. The early church actually had integrity. When everyone deserted the city because of plague, Christians were the ones to stay behind and take care of and even become the sick. Christians were those guys who sold their possessions and shared their wealth. Christians were the ones going to jail for standing against the government... back in the day, being a Christian said a lot about a person.
And then Constantine happened... He made Christianity into the national religion and soon enough, everyone and their moms was on that Christianity hype. It lost its original meaning; these newcomers had no idea what it meant to follow Jesus. They kinda just jumped on late and enjoyed the ride. They didn't know what it was like to suffer at the hands of emperors, to get thrown into jail, to join the poor, or to be martyred for their faith. They just said, "we believe."
And I think the church is still trying to recover. I have a hard time hearing facts like, one third of the world is Christian. I wanna believe it, but I just don't know. I don't even know about myself sometimes. I think if Jesus or Paul had a church today, it would be a lot smaller than we would like to think. But these days, church is all about good music, flat panel tvs on the sides that don't add anything to the service, and pastors that serve as part-time comedians. It's all about getting bigger and better--more people, bigger venue, more lights, more talent... pretty soon God gets pushed out of his own service because we're so concerned with making a production.
Do you consider yourself a Christian? Examine yourself.

On Adventures...

I have this desire in me. I'm not exactly sure where it came from, but it keeps coming up. I really wish that I had a car here in Berkeley. Preferably, a Prius (gas money be ridiculous!). This is a completely selfish desire because I don't want it for any conventional purposes... not to buy groceries for our apartment, not to get to Tolman (although it would be nice), and most definitely not for ministry purposes (no offense anyone). Negatory. I would want the car in Berkeley one reason only: to go on adventures.
Yes, adventures. Spontaneous adventures. Spontaneous adventures to random places. Spontaneous adventures to random far away places. Spontaneous adventures to random far away places with cool people... ok that's enough. But think about it, wouldn't that be frakkin tight (I never say that in real life)? Let's say I'm not doing anything this weekend (which would never happen, thank you shepherd's team meetings) and I have no major assignments coming up (or at least none that I choose to acknowledge), then what shall I do that weekend? Why, go to Reno of course!! Don't feel like Reno? Ok, how about Magic Mountain? Or to the desert to look at the stars?? The possibilities are endless!! And it opens up a whole new world of food options! Let's face it, you get tired of eating freakin La Burrita and pad see ew over and over again. What does Nate feel like eating tonight? Maybe Jack in the Box (50 tacos for $25=legit)? Maybe Palace Korean bbq? Maybe some decent pho place that doesn't give me the runs like pho hoa?
You may be asking, Nate, what is your point with all of this? Patience child, I shall tell you. I think when it comes to blogging, I realize that I post pretty rarely. Twice a month if I (or you) get lucky. And I wonder why this is. I think sometimes I just get tired of writing about my thoughts; it's such a womanly thing to do (no offense). I wish I had more exciting things to write about. I wish I could talk about adventures or funny and exciting stories like my uncles do. A book I'm reading (A million miles in a thousand years) talks about what it means to write a story. Sometimes I wonder if I'm living a life that's worth retelling. Some people say I only have a limited number of stories that I tell to everyone (when I got caught at the cal game, when I let out a really bad fart in my dorm, when my roommate knocked over my bonzai tree without telling me, when I ate the goat food, just to name a few). But really now, who freakin cares about when I farted in my dorm room????
I wanna live a life worth remembering, worth retelling. Be it with "adventures" or roadtrips, or maybe just with relationships... I think I want to be that guy who has a wealth of knowledge because of all the experience he has. Maybe wisdom just comes to people naturally as they go through life, but maybe some people go out and find it. Maybe I'm just a college kid who wants to relish in his freedom. Either way, I want to write a good story with my life... If your life was made into a story, would it be worth telling?

Feelings

I used to be a crybaby. I cried whenever I got in trouble. I cried because I didn't like this one kid at my karate class. I cried because we got stuck on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. I cried my first day in 2nd grade just because it was my first day of second grade. One time my best friend and I were waiting in line to get on the monkey bars. For some reason I decided to push him off the platform. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then he got hurt and started crying. And then I started crying too haha. I was a weird kid...

These days, I don't cry much anymore. I mean, there was that time I watched Armageddon and maybe once in awhile I'll get misty-eyed, but really, I'm not an emotional guy. It's something that's been eating at me recently. I'm really whatevers about everything. I hate it. I don't FEEL anything very deeply anymore. Sometimes I talk with those kinds of girls that get really emotional about everything... yknow those kinds of girls, right? They preface most sentences with an "OMG" or end other sentences with a really annoying whiny sound... yeah those girls (not directed at any specific person!). And as annoying as they get sometimes, I really wanna be like that. Well, not exactly like that, but I wanna feel things. I want my highs to be highs and maybe my lows to be kinda low too. For me, everything just kind hovers around the mean. Which, I guess could have its advantages too. I mean, I don't stress out very easily and I manage to keep my composure when things get weird. But sometimes, I really just wanna be a crybaby again.



I was watching this video. I luhh switchfoot. I'm excited for their new album. The part that gets me in this video is 2:10-2:35... I want that. I want to believe and love something so passionately that everything I do is an expression of my desperation for that thing. I wanna know that with every action I decide to make, that it's something I am willing to DIE doing. If the world ended this very second, would I be satisfied with the fact that the last thing I did on this earth was writing in my blog? Would you be satisfied knowing that the last thing you did was reading Nate Lee's random thoughts about his sensitive childhood??? That's a terrible thing to be doing! So go, do something with intention. Do something with feeling, with conviction, with passion. Screw what everyone else thinks. And when you're done, come back to me and give me advice on how you do it, because I need some help feeling things again.

Food, Music, and Compassion

Yes, I know you've been waiting. I am here to inform you, it is here. The Food Blog has arrived! I bet you're pretty excited. This flips the page to a new chapter in my bloglife. I know most food blogs include pictures of food that people have cooked themselves, but I think that's overrated. It's all about food that other people make and you just happen to have a camera around so you take a picture of it. Holla! Although, one of the pictures in this post is something I made myself, can you guess which one it is? It's a toughie, mostly because of my culinary skillz that killz.

(click for bigger pix)


Which one did I make???

So yeah I was thinking about food. And about music. Something about those two things is so intriguing. I mean, God (yeah you knew it would turn into a thing about God) could have made us like plants, just sucking up rays from the sun for our energy. But nah, he made food. What a great idea. And then there's music. I wish I could learn theory. Why is there music? What the eff is music? Why do certain notes just sound right with other notes? Why is music mathematical? Why does it all make sense? Crazy stuff...

So I'm taking a class about human happiness (only at Berkeley!). It's pretty interesting. The professor makes the claim that compassion or love is something that humans have evolved to have; essentially, compassion is an adaptation that enables a given organism to have a better chance of surviving. I actually hate the idea... that one day a caveman said, "Well shizz, when I show compassion to my cavebrotha, I actually have a greater chance of helping my genes pass through the generations!" I like the idea of love as this abstract, nice idea. If compassion is what my professor says it is, does that make it any less significant? Any less beautiful? ehh I dunno.

Just makes me wonder though. If he can reduce something like compassion down to an evolutionary byproduct, what else is up in the air? Does my food just taste good because the homo sapien has developed an affinity for fats and salts because of its scarcity in the evolutionary environment? Is music just a mating call?? What is life??? Who am I????

Yeeeaaaahhh... well I dunno what this post is about. Definitely not an argument for or against evolution, so don't get all butthurt about that kinda stuff. Sometimes it's just interesting hearing things that challenge concepts that you have taken for granted for so long. And I think that's a good thing.

More to come, thanks for reading.