Empty Spaces

I had the fortune of enjoying the beautiful (it's really not) scenery of the short and fading Canadian spring on the train ride back from Toronto.

There is a quiet and ugly truth to the bare nakedness of the land.  In the past few hours, I've passed by thousands if not millions of trees, all stripped naked by the great Canadian Winter (I'm sure they are all eager to come back to life)

But there is so much truth in all the nakedness and empty spaces.  

1. It unveils the cold distance between each tree, showing how lonely each tree actually is. 

2. It uncovers the environment in which they grow in, not only the shape of the clouds, but the darkness of the earth.   

Oh yes, there is a small but noticeable distance between each and every tree.  It tells us, that even in the thickest of forests, every tree needs it own space.  Not the 'first world problems' kind of a 'need', but this space actually dictates the life of a tree: A room to take in nutrition and a room to grow, for growth is the essence of life, and with out it, we are left to die.  Eventually we too, must find our own space for growth, and nutrition.  Otherwise, we will die. But we do not die. We stand firm. The cherry blossoms, not because of its beauty but because its roots are deep, the earth is strong and the sun is bright.  

Some require greater space, for larger the tree, deeper are its roots.  A tree with out sufficient roots is a tree waiting to break, and a tree that does not live up to its roots, is robbing its neighbors of their precious space..  

- How much space have I reserved for my self for growth? for nutrition? i.e What are the restrictions/limitations to my growth/nutrition?

- How deep is my root?

- What kind of a tree do I want to be?

Which brings me to the environment.  By environment, I mean everything that surrounds and shapes the tree, and everything I would perhaps not have seen, had the trees been full of life and color.  I bring this up, because I rode by a small quarry in Southern Ontario.  And though it wasn't a very big quarry, there were trees planted on the side of the railroad [evergreens] to block the view into the quarry.  I was certain it was to block the view, since there weren't any trees on the other side of the quarry. Ironic, how trees are used to block the view into a mine site.  

The point is, by taking the train in this time of the year, I got to see all the small houses that I otherwise would not have seen, I got to see the horizon, and even the dirt-y earth it self.  Some times, it takes solitude, to realize that life is not as strange and mysterious as we make it out to be.  Stop looking within, start looking around. We look so hard to find the truth in the fruits of our labor, the colors of the wind.  And though we see the fruits of the spirit, we must remember that what shapes our lives, what makes us who we are does not lie in those fruits that fall away. Perhaps what or who we are surrounded by tells much more about our selves than what we actually do or think.  Perhaps life is beautiful, not only when the castles we have built are full of lights and glamour, but when the lights go off and finally unveil the beautiful night sky (litt up) with twinkling little starts. 

Perhaps its time we unsew the fig leaves and uncover ourselves; and maybe we will feel no shame in our nakedness, our leaves will not wither, we will stand firm like a tree planted by streams of water.  

Complex Simplicity

One of the things I'm hearing during my bible study is "Peter! I love how your faith so simple!" or "I wish I could just believe like you do", as if I am some naive, carefree teenager whose beliefs are merely the consequence of a structured institutionalization.

It is true that when I speak to most people, I am very simplistic in my beliefs. My theology is systematic and the parts I do not understand, I just resort to faith.  No doubt that this can come across as someone who chooses not to question the nuances of Christianity because it is easier. Or perhaps, some see this as a sign of a 'young Christian', whose unadulterated desire for God simply triumphs over the burning questions of the intelligent.

Those who are closest to me know that that is the furthest from the truth.  I have wrestled with questions of predestination, trinity, time, space, evil, omniscience and such since high school.  These questions have led me to doubt and disconnected me from Christ.  On the other hand, when He has brought me back into his arms, the questions have become scars with telling stories and now no one can use them as a weapon against me. I have a stronger foundation of systematic theology, I have a deeper understanding of the character and the nature of God, I have learned to tackle new questions that arise, and most importantly I have learned to believe in midst of the burning questions in my heart.

The simplicity of my faith is not because I have blindly accepted the Word, but it is because of the countless hours I have spent fighting against my self to understand God outside of the Word. My simple, sometimes ordinary, conclusions are not without myriads of premises.  Of course the more I know, I only know that I know so little.

One of the problems of today's culture, and the reason I left the debate club, is that we have forgotten to sit down and think... not for minutes, but for hours, days, months, and sometimes even years.  We think only our Thesis is worth the time to spend more than a semesters worth of time.  We think nothing is worth pursuing for months, that as long as we've thought/discussed about it once, its enough. Even when we journal, we recollect merely one day out of time, and then just move on (As if yesterday had no effect on today!).  The problem of debate club, as reflected by the wider culture, is that we get into a habit of wittiness, and we begin to believe that think we know it all, even as we know we don't.  We become used to the arguments told on the news, and as long as we've heard those arguments, we've heard it all.  Rome was not built in a day, neither was Microsoft, nor the Confession.

In fact, it is my observation shaky theology, and misunderstanding  lack of understanding of systematic theology engender more questions.  Questions, perhaps necessary, in order to get to deeper understanding.   Sometimes, I get frustrated when I see someone with the same questions over and over gain, with no progress.  Do they really care? It seems that a lot of people care more about being proven right than being correct, the Truth.

If I may make on little connection to the season of lent, It is only after fighting our deepest desire, we realize our weakness and the strength we find in Christ.

So, is my faith fairly simple?

Yes.

We know, brothers and sisters, that I have confidence in the answer, not because is is the summation of all of my own thoughts, but it is the answer revealed to us in Christ, the Word.

Testimony (Luke 15:11-32) (CM:5,7)

Father, I have sinned.
Against you and the heavens.

I have left your home
out of my own volition

Everything you gave,
All your wealth and all your gifts

I've squandered away
in my own prostitution.

O! What have I done?
Where has my Invictus gone?

When famine arrived
I filled my stomach with pods

Father! I cried out.
I'm unworthy as your son

So I went to you
to be my own father's slave

(For I am no longer worthy to be called your son)

I stand here ashamed
but to whom else shall I go?

My knees are broken
and I have no offering.

Father I have sinned
Against you and the heavens
(Unworthy to be your son)

But from the distance
you were filled with compassion.

You ran to your son
and threw your arms around me.

You gave me kisses
on my cheek fill'ed with tears

You've taken me back
With love and jubilation.

No words can describe
I was lost but now I'm found.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
---
I have two birthdays.

07/09/1992
02/03/2014

On this Monday, February the 3rd; I was the lost son.
This is the day God has opened my heart to the gospel.
I was blind but now I see, just how sinful I really was.
But more importantly, that God still loves and forgives me beyond my own measures.

Oh how foolish of me, to think that I was the master of my own soul.
O Lord, remind me of this day when I become blind again.  Only you, O God, can open the eyes of my heart.

Pride and Proud

Just a Budweiser commercial. No biggies right? Beer all day everyday!

But does this tell us something fundamental about the state of human soul?

That we want to be famed?

That we want to be the centre of attention at some point of our lives?

That we want to be recognized for even the smallest of our hobbies?

That the sound of strangers perhaps can be just as strong as our most intimate lovers?

That an 'artificially' created joy can be just as worthwhile as an 'organic' joy.

Pride, often endured by many of the religious as the greatest Sin, is perhaps the acme of all pleasures and maybe of all good.

Pride may be the reason we live, may be the ego in which we find the passion to wake up.

The world does revolve around each one of us. From the summation of our perspectives we form rights, respect, laws et c.... But perhaps time to time, as sinful as it may seem, its good for us to look into our selves, neither in reflection nor in reminiscence, but in Pride.

Proud of life that we enjoy, even as broken as we are, we have the capacity to.....

You complete the sentence.

Resolutions 2012

Because there is something greater that I desire to achieve and become.

1. Resolved, I will sleep before 1 on school nights & 2 on non-school nights.

2. Resolved, I will read and write at least 1 sentence of non-academic, non-internet literature.

3. Resolved, I will always and only act out of Truth and Love, never out of irrational anger and pride.

4. Resolved, Everyday, I will reflect upon my day before I go to sleep, so to improve for tomorrow, whatever that means.

Wind

The Inability to speak to each other enlightens a new sense. To hear the sound of silence.

All the people I have ever loved and hated. Misunderstandings and Recognitions. Hackneyed pop culture. All sitting in an audience in front of me. Except the ones who really know me. They share my stage: in suffering and in glory.

A band of teenagers playing his part in the showcase of one's life no one told.

Music starts playing from the speakers, but no one is playing their instrument. A recording of broken hearts and shattered dreams.

The piano is still, though the heart of the pianist suggests other wise. The guitar is motion less, while the tears stream steady and sound. It is like this with the drums and the bass. They are merely a visual spectacle of the symbolism of death.

I cry and I cry, but in silence. Needless to say that one's life flashing is a flash of people's faces. Faces of the people you've loved and hated. But when they are all sitting in front of you, Silent and in Tears, words are a distraction. Cry my beloved.

And in the climax of the collective noise, No One is lost nor confused about the meaning of their lives nor the purpose of the seat they have chosen to take. Listen my beloved.

Too much of my ego has broken the people around me. Only in an unadulterated darkness can I be set free.

Can I let others free?

Always in Silence

Artistic Discipline

The image of a creative discplinarian just doesn't suit well with most of our imaginations. Perhaps it's the trait of spontaneity that seemingly contradicts the organizational and time-management skills that oh so many business kids seem to desire. Aritistic Discipline: a paradox of our times.

But who do you believe is the most artistic person in the world? Ask any artist of any sort, I think they will be the first ones to admit that their creativity is only a masking of countless hours of practice and discipline. Nike, Adidas, Puma. So many, athlete's wear companies exploit the discpline and the perseverence of an athlete as a brilliant marketing ploy. Impossible is nothing. While the consensus is that the artists are 3.am umemployed freelancers, pseudo geniuses that creates random cycles of so-called-"art" (except maybe pianists haha)

But this couldn't possibly be more false. The free-est person ever to sing, write, paint, act etc... They are not the men of lethargic creativity, rather they are the men who have suffered, persevered, and endured.

I want to be free, but freedom is not to 'do whatever you want'. It must not be eloquently masked in "Live for Today" nor "Just do what makes us happy". Fr. Barron once said: Freedom is not merely a choice nor self-determination, freedom is the discipling of desires so as to make the achievement of the good first possible and then effortless. Discipline does not limit one's freedom, but awkens freedom. Law is not an afront to freedom, but a ground to freedom.

Freedom is my hope and freedom is my purpose. Today, I find freedom in the discpling of my desires as I look forward to what lies ahead. Challenge me, then I will respond, and eventually, effortlessly.