I was listening to the radio a few weeks ago and they were talking about the definition of beauty. They had an editor for a teen girl magazine, a male model who is also a musician (a double threat!) and a philosopher. The philosopher was the only person who said anything interesting (who would have thought?).

He said that beauty was the sense by which everything seems to fit together – the sense where everything is in harmony with itself, where everything is in it’s right place. Apparently we find beautiful people to be so because when we see them our brains automatically associate their looks into this same sense of everything fitting together in the right place. The right figure, or the right tone of skin or smile or whatever…

Or more precisely: When our eyes glaze at the sight of a hot body in a magazine or movie, when our gaze is drawn to a the pretty face we see on the bus, when we suddenly find ourselves friendlier and smiling more in front of that cute guy/girl… It’s really all because our minds are drawing for us an (artificial and superficial) sense of completeness and absolute harmony.

The radio show went on to talk about superficiality and so on, but what I really liked was this basic definition of beauty. In better terms, what he was saying was that beauty was really what the Bible refers to as shalom – peace, completeness, the interweaving of everything in perfect harmony.

Every now and then I hear or see or experience things that really are simply beautiful. Driving across the Sydney harbour bridge as the sun sets, with the music just right. Riding my bike through the bush at full speed. Hearing a guitar solo link in perfectly with the drum and bass. Playing guitar with a band and connecting perfectly with everyone. A wonderful moment with my wife and family. Perhaps these things are beautiful because are just little pointers to shalom?

Sometimes I hear really good sermons, or read really good expositions of the Bible in a book, and find myself glowing from hearing or reading. Perhaps a better adjective for such a sermon or exposition is that they were beautiful – because such a sermon or exposition is really drawing for me a better and clearer picture of the ‘Prince of Shalom‘ (Isaiah 9:6)?

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, ^[b] Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

To what degree does economic theory affect the church?

• To what degree did the Great Depression form a basis for the success of fascism, the Nazi party and the German national church?
• To what degree did neo-liberalism and the emphasis on greater free market economies lead to the success of the mega-church movement and the prosperity gospel?

Hmm..

I remember chatting with a friend (who is a pastor) about Christian thinking about work. A couple of years ago he had whispered into the ears of many people something along the lines of everything in life being really just being ‘dross‘, and consequently the only real thing of value on this earth was ‘full time Christian ministry’ (whatever that means).

It must be said that this pastor is a particularly influential guy, and quite a lot of people take his words to be rather authoritative. While he’s certainly not the only one who would utter the expression above (and I’ve heard it way too many times), his opinion counted heavily for many.

I said to him that now that I’ve had some time (years) to think about that statement, along with some experience in ‘full time Christian ministry’, I basically concluded that such statements were a bunch of rubbish.

He said to me that he actually agreed, and had subsequently rethought about his position in this. More precisely he talked about how he had updated his own thoughts about eschatology and this was the driving focus of his new conclusions.  The result was that he was now more interested in seeing Christians in the work force.

I didn’t know how to respond to him at the time, but the way he spoke irked me at the time. I’d never heard anyone speak about ‘work’ in relation to eschatology before, and so I was a bit stunned. Last time I checked, all theological discussions about ‘work’ revolved around the categories of Creation and Wisdom.

Does the concept of ‘work’ really belong within the category of eschatology? i.e. Should discussion about what to do with work revolve specifically around Christians waiting around for Jesus to return?

I should really hope not. I can easily see how a theological understanding of work shaped largely by eschatology would lead to the myopic concept of manifest destiny which plagues churches in the West/North American today. Only today we had the International Director of Wycliffe speaking to us about how North American missionaries tend to have a ‘power boat’ mentality with missions which is incredibly unhelpful for the receiving nations. i.e. A mentality which thinks we can just rock up wherever we want and just start dumping Christian stuff in your land.

Closer to home I can see how this leads to thinking that work equals a waste of time and ministry is the only real option. Any updates to such thinking (still within an eschatalogical framework) would at most update the formula to be work is an opportunity, but ministry is better. In other words, it’s just a softening of the formula, or just a rationalisation.

Anyway. So basically my conclusion is… I’m still very uncomfortable with some of the language many well-meaning pastors and ministry people in Sydney use, and hearing the big word ‘eschatology’ used within the conversation only serves to make me more nervous.

Right now there are many, many books written by North American missionaries highlighting the lessons they have learnt over the past 50 years or so… I wonder what it will be like in another 50 years when someone writes a book about the mistakes we’re making right now here in the Evangelical stronghold of Sydney?

When you love and hate something at the same time, is that referred to as an addiction?

I remember hearing Mike Raiter speaking on Mark 8:34-35 at Katoomba a few years ago. He said that Jesus’ words showed for us that the pathway to glory is through Jerusalem; the pathway to greatness in the kingdom is via suffering. Those words sent a bolt through me at the time.

Was I prepared to ask God for suffering, that I may gain greatness in His eyes? Did I really comprehend that Christian growth comes through the crucible of pain?

About two years ago I read ‘Don’t Waste Your Life‘ by John Piper. The opening illustration is of an elderly couple who spent their twilight years relaxing and spending their time gathering shells at the beach. When Jesus returns, Piper asks, what will they have to show for their life? A bunch of shells? I’m guessing the illustration harks back to Jesus’ parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14-30.

What about me – what will I have to show for when Jesus returns?

A thought crossed my mind last night before I fell asleep: I fear that the path of least resistance will lead to a wasted life. Perhaps that’s just a longer way of saying ‘no pain, no gain’. Is this a godly or particularly Biblical attitude? I’m not sure…

Perhaps I’m just an optimist but I find my life filled with so many things I don’t deserve. I often feel that God just seems to be showering blessing upon blessing on me. And yet I know everything I have is opportunity – either an opportunity to relax and enjoy the good things in life or to use whatever I have to bless others back.

The path of least resistance always seems to be the one where I use what I have to serve my own pleasures in life while being totally indifferent to the world around me. The path of greater resistence always seems to be the path of exercising undeserved grace, showing mercy, loving the unlovable, having a generosity that makes no sense.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this… I guess I just wanted to write this down to mull over later.

Gosh, for all my hopes and dreams of blogging again – I haven’t had any time to write.

Second year college has suddenly become amazingly full very quickly. I’m suddenly scrambling to translate random bits of Biblical Greek, and struggling desperately to keep up with the masses of Hebrew grammar. I have an essay  due ridiculously early.

Wednesdays (like today) are killers this semester – classes from 8:30am to 9:30pm with only one hour free (along with time for meals). After so many hours sitting and listening I get both tired and full of energy at the same time.

Nonetheless everything I’m learning and absorbing is wonderful. I know I’ve learnt an amazing amount of things so far with much of it being really helpful for myself on a personal level. However, I have yet to translate most of it into something useful for people I serve. I’ve actually, many of the things I’ve been learning has meant that I find doing some things I used to find familiar so much harder now.

Preaching has become especially more difficult – now I feel I need to cram more stuff into the same sermon. I’m pretty certain I’ve been failing at achieving this and making what is the common mistake for most beginner preachers in Bible college – trying too hard. Ironically the lecturers tell me that most students were probably better preachers before entering college, and will probably not get over the bad habits developed in college till many years afterwards.

Tonight at ‘Cross-cultural Teaching & Learning’ I learnt about how the methods I’ve been using for Bible studies for the past number of years has probably not been the most effective or positive method for communication and learning. It was too teacher oriented and not learner oriented enough, leading to an oppressive ‘culture of silence’ which indoctrinates the pupil into believing they are incapable to discovering new things for themselves because they are overly reliant on the teacher. I felt myself nodding on the inside as the lecturer spoke, confessing silently, “guilty as charged”. Hmmm. I guess there is always next time.

Anyway, I’m going to go back and try to read and translate some more Greek.

ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος…

National disasters always seem quite surreal, but I guess it all hits home when you find out someone you know died in them. Today I found out a missionary from church died in the Victorian fires. She was working at a rehab centre for the homeless and substance dependant in the bushlands of Victoria.

To think she spent nineteen years as a single woman doing the potentially dangerous work on the streets of Spain with drug addicts, to come home and perish from a bushfire is… difficult to put in words.

I remember hearing her share about her work at Bible study in the very house I’m sitting and writing this down in. I remember being confused about how she wasn’t like all the other missionaries from church – how she seemed somewhat simpler. I remember how this small fact taught me a little bit more about what ministry to the marginalised is like, and how missionary work is not so much about the missionary, but it really, really is all about the Gospel.

None of this was beyond the hand of God, and He has called his good and faithful servant home. I wonder what his plans are for Jo and I.

Seven years ago in my second year of uni I started blogging in an attempt at learning how to write. At the time I thought that my ability to express myself was degrading rapidly as I spent all my time writing computer code and reading finance textbooks (which I hated). I also thought at the time that I might end up going to Bible college one day, and so I saw it as a type preparation for essays and assignments.

I kept the habit up for about 3-4 years before life caught up with me and the blog stagnated. However, looking back I’ve realised how beneficial it was. During that era I was perhaps more lucid in my thoughts that I’d ever been, and I’m pretty sure that it helped me almost every aspect of church ministry I was involved with.

Fast forward, and here I am languishing in my second year of Bible college. Very often I find myself sitting behind my laptop searching for words for assignments, sermons, Bible studies and what not. And I come up with nothing. I sit frozen in a mental blank, scraping the barrel of creativity.

So, I decided I’d come back and give this blogging thing a second try. Maybe I’ll get lucky and resurrect some of the glory of the past.