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I hate the statement “Nice guys finish last.” In my opinion
that has got to be one of the dumbest proverbs ever conceived. Mainly because
it co notates the idea that finishing “last” is some kind of “virtue” that should
be aspired to. This saying was probably invented by some guy who competed in
the Special Olympics under the guise of actually being “disabled,” and still
finished with only a silver. No, my friends, I would like to point out to you that
this statement has about as much practicality to it as the only other statement
that supersedes it in stupidity, the statement “all I am looking for is a nice
guy.” Personally I would rather compete in the Special Olympics before ever be
called a “nice guy,” because despite the fact that both are retarded, at least
one comes with a medal.
Women, I would just like to inform you of something, quit
searching for “nice guys.” You are using the wrong compass. Nice guys are all over the place. Listen to
me, if it’s a “nice guy” you want, I can find one for you. Many of them have
cheated on their girlfriends or spouses, but will hold every car door open for
you on a first date. “Nice” is not a virtue, it’s a characteristic but vastly
different from character itself.
Now going back to the phrase that nice guys finish last,
well who cares anyway? A guy that is consistently finishing last shouldn’t be commended
for anything; he should be turned into a eunuch and kept from procreating with
like species. Even those Trekkie Nerds that took up residence in the dorm room
opposite mine had something they were proficient in, computers and japanimation
trivia. Some of those kids could diagnose a corrupted windows file just by
licking the hard drive.
Finishing last is not and never will be a fruit of the
spirit. You don’t need a “nice guy,” you need a GOOD MAN. You see ladies, while
opening and closing a car door is charming, it is only a characteristic and not
exemplary of character itself.
Being a narrative writer, I am expected to understand the
difference between both character and characteristics, as a misunderstanding of
both will result in poor development and a crappy story. Characteristics are
those things that define a personality, such as the way someone dresses. Does
this person dress like a lower-middle class skater punk or an upper-middle
class choir boy? It can even be a difference in vernacular; does this person
speak with an inner city Brooklyn accent, Georgia Twang or a California Surfer’s
vocabulary of 15 words? These are all things that define a personality but not
the person themselves.
You see, “Character” defines the “person.” Character is the
CORE of a person, and the CORE of character is CHOICE. Any great, and even most
non-great, story tellers know this difference. The true character of a person
isn’t shown in a 5 dollar bundle of flowers or a mix cd (but if a guy doesn’t
even do this much he is probably not worth your time anyway), his “character”
is shown when he is forced to make a decision between doing what is a right,
versus what is easy. I am certainly not
saying that being nice, or kind, or sensitive aren’t admirable traits, I am
just saying that they are not the first and only things you should be looking
for in a guy. With good character comes
selflessness through sacrifice. Is he
the type of guy who would drive to the supermarket and back on a cold snowy day
just so you could have milk with your cookies? Is he the type of guy that would
rather use the money he’s been saving for a new set of golf clubs instead for
his daughter’s ballet lessons? Is he the type of guy, who when given the chance
to commit adultery with another woman, will instead turn and run the other way?
I am often reminded of one of the greatest written
characters in filmic history, George Baily from It’s a Wonderful Life. What makes George Baily such an incredible
man is not the fact that he flashed a wink and a smile to every random
pedestrian on the street. He was not remembered for his sauve way with the
ladies. As a boy he even refused to fulfill the request of a admirer by helping
her down from her chair. George Baily was the great man that he was because, despite
his greatest lifelong desires for travel and money, he wound up with neither as
he sought the well-being of those around him first. George Baily was remembered
for those moments in his life when he was forced to set aside himself in the
stead of another. As a boy he chose to tell the pharmacist that he was sending
out improper prescriptions, despite the fact that he took a beating for it. As
a young man he chose to send his brother to college, despite the fact that his
brother was unable to return the favor. As a newly married man he chose to give
his savings, intended for an elaborate honeymoon, instead to the bank, to keep it
from going bankrupt. George Baily was a man remembered, not for his sweet talk and
gentle nature; he was remembered for his INTEGRITY. This is what you need to be
looking for in a man. This is at the core of who a man really is. Not that car
doors and proper manners are not commendable and desired attributes, but I can guarantee
you that 20 years into a marriage will have you less concerned with his etiquette
than his integrity. So stop searching for a “nice guy” and start looking for a
good man.
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| I decided to spend a free afternoon in the Old City of Jerusalem. I
used my time there to take snapshots of whatever placated my
inspiration at the moment, all the while zoning out to Led Zepplin on
my Ipod. After spending the earlier part of the day saturating myself
in the pandemonium that is the Armenian Quarter, I decided to spend
some time in the Jewish Quarter, so grabbed a shwarma in a small Arab
restaurant just off of the Via Delarosa and began making my way over
there. On the way I decided to avoid the perpetual nagging of shop
vendors attempting to sell me wooden statues of Jesus imported from
Indonesia, so I experimented with a couple of back alleyways in hopes
of still reaching my destination in peace. I took a right turn onto a
smaller corridor and began making my way up it when suddenly I was
struck by a young Jewish girl approaching me from the opposite
direction. What a radiant beauty she was to behold. A sight that
stopped me so abruptly I almost squeezed the lamb and vegetable
contents right out of my sandwich (I think if I was squeezing any
harder the lamb would have shrieked out in pain). Like a young boy
witnessing the Niagara Falls for the first time I just stood there,
awestruck, too captivated to take another step. This young Israeli girl
was fitted in an ivory cotton dress that reached from her neck right
down to her ankles, the hem of which was ornamented with an elaborate
gold pattern. Her hair was completely wrapped in a handkerchief with a
lip that flipped out at the top of her forehead, just enough to shade
her eyes from the unforgiving sun. She descended the corridor steps
with elegance that only majestic royalty can ascribe, and upon reaching
the bottom, lifted her head and raised her eyes to reveal two
hurricanes of piercing blue intensity. I found myself lost at sea. Her
attention was suddenly drawn my direction (no doubt by my stupefied
gaze) and she shot a me a brief courtesy smile before “gliding” away,
as if angels were carrying her by her very feet. There I stood, pita
and bell pepper falling from of my dropped jaw, eyes unwilling to do so
much as blink for fear of awakening from this euphoric trance. As I
watched her walk away I had every inhibition to chase her down and
capture a photo of this rare beauty, but I realized that no photo could
ever capture what loveliness now burned in my retina.
As I sat
there in the Jewish Quarter, finishing off what was left of my shwarma,
my trance-like condition began gradually fading and I once again
returned to the land of mortals. I relayed this moment over and over
again in my head. This girl was completely shrouded from head to toe
and yet I found her beauty to be captivating in a way that words can
scarcely describe. True, I have seen many women before, that have had
the ability of stopping me in my tracks or drawing my attention from
whatever it may have been I was doing at the moment, but there was
something different about this girl. She was as modest as modesty gets,
but I wasn’t attracted to her modesty. I could never, in good
conscience, admit to anyone that a woman who dresses more… “Liberally,”
does not possess some intensely potent ability to attract the attention
of men around her. However, I have only recently come to really
understand the difference between being “attractive” and being a
“sex-magnet.” A girl wearing such scant attire may find that she is
indeed awarded the attention she so desires….or is it the attention she
really desires?
As some of you many know, I never make it a
habit of venturing into the modern American mall, but as social and
holiday obligations would have it, I am occasionally called to making
the pilgrimage through Mordor. The mall bothers me for a couple of
reasons, first if I was ever given the option of “shopping” to “gouging
my eye out with a rusty nail,” you could be relatively certain I will
be requesting a walking cane for Christmas. Second, if I ever was
forced into a mall you may as well gouge my eyes out and spare me the
massive influx of sex and materialism, which has an effect on me,
similar to adding a cup of granulated sugar to my frosted flakes (at
least that tastes better going down). Anyway, as chance would have it I
was shopping for a friend of mine and while traipsing from store to
store I was struck by something I couldn’t believe. An advertisement
plastered across the window of Abercrombie and Fitch (the very Eye of
Mordor in case you were wondering) which consisted of a completely
topless female and the word “desire” covering just enough of “her” to
pass advertising regulations. Believe me when I say I was less enamored
with the model than I was the message. We live in a culture that has
inherently misinterpreted sexuality with attraction. Every woman, at
the core of her essence wants to be attractive, to be captivating. What
these false advertisers are claiming is the chance for a young lady to
lay siege to the power of enticement, by utilizing their products as
the means. Unfortunately what the youth of today either don’t realize,
or don’t care to realize, is that there is a cavernous gap between
being attractive and being sexually seductive. Neither are inherently
evil, but each has an appropriate time and place. To some extent, what
these advertisers are promising is true, if you promote yourself in the
miniscule clothing they offer, you will find yourself the focal point
of much attention. However, this is not the attention you really, truly
desire, trust me. By doing this, you have taken a grand leap from
endorsing yourself as an icon of beauty to an object of sexuality.
It
would be easy for me to sanction some kind of straightforward
conclusion to the question of modesty, and propose a “standard” of
attire that would complement one’s beauty, while adhering to a
framework of “Biblical” interpretation. I, however, have never prided
myself as one who would choose a simple and, ultimately, unbiblical
perspective on anything. I believe that modesty, as well as most other
controversial topics in the scriptures, are far more complex than we
are willing to admit.
I have been the victim (as well as I am
sure many of you have) to the ongoing shallow approach the church has
taken towards modesty. I have heard countless lectures in which the
speaker essentially spends the better part of an hour brow-beating 1
Timothy 2:9, “I urge you women to dress modestly, with decency and
propriety…” This doesn’t help us in the least, as it fails to entail
how exactly we are to judge modesty. You can’t swim in a sermon this
shallow. I think, to truly understand modesty, we need ask ourselves,
not necessarily “what” it is, but “why?” This is an infinitely more
important question to be answered.
I mentioned (or at least
alluded to) the fact that for me to give you some blueprint or rulebook
for modest dress would be unbiblical. I mean exactly that. If I were to
set before you a simple “code of conduct” by which you were to present
yourself, I would not only be attacking the issue from a purely
material perspective alone, but I would also be advocating a form of
legalism which is as inherently unbiblical as it is superficial.
So
here it is, I’ll just go ahead and say it. There is (in fact) NO set
“Standard” of what “Biblical modesty” looks like (here is the modernist
coming out in me). I believe modesty is actually a “culturally”
determined standard which fluctuates almost as inconsistently as a
culture itself. There it is. I said it. Ok, so let me explain because I
know many of are busy picking up the pieces of your exploded cranium
from the floor thinking, “you can’t possibly be suggesting the idea
that ‘morality’ is determined by a’ society’ and not by the ‘Bible.”
The answer, you’re right, I’m not. “Morality” is a standard set within
the scriptures alone, but implementing morality in “Modesty” is a
culturally and, in all reality, democratically instituted convention.
Before you attempt to strangle me with your “culturally instituted”
wool scarf, let me explain.
First I would like to mention that
whenever I hear someone quote 1 Timothy 2:9, they always seem to stop
halfway through the verse. That’s because the whole of this passage
says this,
“(9)I also want women to dress modestly, with decency
and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive
clothes, (10) but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to
worship God.”
Well this introduces quite the dilemma, if we take
the stand in saying that scripture does in fact propose a standard of
modesty, it is then very clear that we have not been abiding to it. I
think you would be hard pressed to find any Christian claiming that
“braids” and “jewelry” are inherently ungodly; however, I do wonder if
many of them even know exactly why. The truth of this verse, like all
verses in scripture, is to be understood in context. Paul was writing
this passage to a particular people in a particular time and to truly
understand it, we must come to understand both. Paul was speaking to
the church of Ephesus which, at the time, suffered greatly from false
doctrine, unqualified leaders, materialism and disorder of worship.
These particular verses dealt with the issue of worship. The men in the
church were having a difficult time keeping their attention and focus
on God because of the distracting apparel of the women. Traditionally,
in the first century A.D., women didn’t dress in these fashions unless
they were specifically seeking the attention of other men. Today
braided hair, pearls and the like, might not seem as such a distracting
feature on a woman; however, in that time it would have been unusual
and inherently intentional to dress this way.
Alas, times have
indeed changed and these types of features are not the distraction that
they would have been 2000 years ago. Paul was not advocating these
precepts for modesty to all churches of all time but rather a very
specific church, within a very specific time. On the backswing of this
realization it would be easy (and utterly ridicules) to propose the
idea that, on this basis, we can see that the Bible is no longer
relevant to our “modern” times and therefore bears no credence to our
sanctity. Stupid. The point of this passage is not that we are to dress
in 1st century Greco-Roman fashion, but more importantly to search our
hearts with the understanding that the way we dress affects not only
us, but the people around us.
I would now like to take you back to
the time from whence this dilemma of modesty first became an issue. It
might come as no surprise to many of you that this would have me return
to place of origin from which every quandary of human history arose,
the Garden of Eden. It is my belief that the question of modesty stems
as far back as any question of morality. To the original fall that had
Adam and Eve plunge us into the darkest depths of depravity from whence
only the work of Christ could reconcile. I believe it is within the
very dictation of their downfall, in Genesis 3, that we might find the
truth of nakedness, shame and modesty.
We have all heard the
story of Adam, Eve and the serpent. We know that Eve was deceived by
the cunning reptilian as was coerced into disobedience along with her
all too willing husband. Like all great stories, however, it will never
cease to bear enlightening fruit upon a more careful study and
scrutinizing analysis.
Adam and Eve, created in the image of
God, perfect in all their ways bearing a capacity to commune with the
almighty on a direct and personal interactive means. They were free to
romp and frolic about the entire Garden of Eden, having no limits as to
their daily agendas provided they abide by the only prohibition of
eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. That was it,
one singular policy and the world with its many pleasures was theirs to
enjoy. Now, as it is stated in the Bible, Adam and Eve were “both
naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.”(Genisis2:25) This
is probably the most important verse used to describe the condition of
these two, in a pre-fall existence. So what does it mean, “{T}hey were
naked?” Well I think it is safe to assume that this is as literal as
literal gets. They didn’t wear clothes, no coverings. Not so much as
the traditional fig leaf shrouding the ba-dunk-a-dunk and junk. They
were all nude all the time! I think this is an easy enough
interpretation, but what is interesting to note about this statement is
not their physical condition that is described so much as the emotional
and spiritual stasis of their being. They were, “not ashamed.” Glancing
at this statement often provides one with a very common, I believe,
misinterpretation of what being “ashamed” here implies.
Do you
remember all of those nightmares you would wake from in a cold sweat?
You know, the one where it’s your first day of junior high and there
you are, sitting at your desk, hands sweating with anxiety. You sit
there, nervous because you have a sinking feeling that you have
forgotten something. Your spiral notebook sits on the left end of the
desk while your no. 2 pencil rests on the other. Everything seems fine.
Only then do you realize that you have forgotten one thing. Somehow,
you have managed to forget to put your clothes on before you went to
school that morning! There you are, stark naked in the midst of the
most traumatizing and judgmental oppressors of your youth, your
classmates. Your cheeks immediately flush with red as you do your best
to utilize a pre-Algebra text book in place of a black “censored” box.
You are in every sense of the word, “ashamed.”
So what is it
that you are so ashamed of? Let’s return now to Genesis and where I
believe the most important verse regarding the fallen condition of Adam
and Eve can be found as contrasted to that of their pre-fall state.
“…{S}he took of the fruit and ate. She also gave some to her husband
with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and
they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and
made themselves coverings.” (Genisis3:6-7) I think this verse is
infinitely more complex than many would like to admit and for that very
reason I am going to propose an interpretation that may seem unorthodox
to many. Let’s look at the verse. They ate the forbidden fruit and
suddenly became aware of the fact that they were “naked” and
immediately sought for something by which to cover themselves. Let’s
think about this for a second, Adam and Eve were conceived naked. All
they have ever known about each other was nakedness. There was no one
else in the Garden beyond the Almighty Himself (so much as the
scriptures imply). So why the heck did they feel the compulsion to
cover their nudity from each other? Or was it from each other? It is my
belief that the physical absence of clothing was not the only real
dilemma which Adam and Eve were forced to reconcile. Let me explain.
When
Adam and Eve were created, they were created in absolute perfection, in
the very image of God. This is known as the Imago Dei. When most of us
consider the repercussions of the fall, we tend to think about it in a
very limited perspective. Consider the fact that the fall has had just
as debilitating an effect upon your soul as it did your body, mind,
emotions, desires ect. Why is that you ask? Because ALL of these parts
make you, “you.” God created “you” with a body, soul and mind. He
created “you” with reason, emotion and volition. You are not just one
part of these, you are all of them. Something cannot happen to one
without affecting the other and vice versa. Therefore, in a pre-fall
state, man was perfect in every way possible. His body, spirit, mind,
desires, reason, emotion were all pure and holy and innocent. With no
inward principle of evil to work on, the seduction of sin had to come
from without.
When we consider the effects of the fall, we tend
not to think of it as a complete and total fall. The influence of
Platonism has taught us to pick and choose some aspects of our being as
fallen and others as not. This is not a Biblical truth. Ladies and
Gentlemen, we should be a walking, shinning glory to behold. We were
created in the image of God, in EVERY which way possible, and that is
no small thing. When sin entered the world it corrupted EVERY aspect of
our being in that now, what was once had been created by God for his
perfect service, could now be used by man for disobedience. I know what
you are thinking now, “Well we all might not be perfect mirrors for God
like we were originally created to be, but that doesn’t mean we don’t
still bear His image to some degree.” This is true. Despite the fact
that we have corrupted a perfect creation we still bear a likeness of
the Imago Dei. This is where common Grace comes in. Common Grace is the
concept that God endows the world and everyone in it (saved or not)
with a common or universal grace that undeservedly allows man to not
immediately be condemned to an existence without Him (Matt. 5:45,Heb.
1:2-3; John 1:1-4, Rom. 13:6, Rom. 2:14-15, Gen. 9:6: 1 Cor. 11:7).
Remember back in Genesis 2:17, that whole thing about how if you eat
the fruit, “you will surely die.” To “die,” in this context, has a
basic idea of separation. It means the spiritual, reasonable,
emotional, volitional and ultimately eternal separation from God.
However, God, in his good grace, allowed us a “common grace” by which
our body entire could be sanctified. Man still bears the image of God,
by grace, in his existence, such as his capacity to comprehend and
understand, his ability to love and help others, ect ect… While an
individual or nation may possess such admirable qualities, they are
still fallen and tainted human beings and prone to misusing even these
graces (Ecc 7:20). However, common grace still functions in way that is
to the great (and undeserved I might add) benefit of everyone in the
world.
O.K. now that that is cleared up, here is my proposal.
When we read in Genesis 3,
“6
When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and
pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took
some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her,
and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they
realized they were naked;”
I think it is important to pay
particular attention to the word “then” as it indicates a sense of
immediacy of succession in terms of events. Once they ate of the fruit,
their eyes were “immediately” opened and they realized they were naked.
This sense of urgency suggests that whatever happened metaphysically in
that moment, when they partook of the fruit, had a striking impact that
both surprised and brought to shame, the both of them.
We know
that the fruit was nothing special. It wasn’t laced with any kind of
lethal chemical or poisonous drug. The significance of this the tree of
the knowledge of good and evil resides alone in the fact that God told
them not to eat of it. There was nothing wrong with looking at it.
There was nothing wrong with touching it. God’s singular mandate for
his perfect children was that they would not EAT of it. When Adam and
Eve chose not to abide by this simple admonition, and ate of the fruit,
sin entered the world, tainting everything in it. At the exact moment
when Adam and Eve partook of this forbidden fruit, sin entered their
very being of man and it was corrupted entirely. This means EVERY
aspect of their being was immediately tarnished, including their
bodies. The image of God which once shone brightly and perfectly was
suddenly stagnant and monotonous. This is why when Adam and Even looked
at each other; they saw the physically glory of God diminish before
their eyes, and that is why they became ashamed.
Look people, Adam
and Eve were created in nakedness. All they ever new about each other
was nakedness. They were husband and wife for Peat’s sake! It wouldn’t
make sense if suddenly they looked at each other’s bareness alone, and
were ashamed of it, unless there was really something else going on
here. What I am suggesting is that when Adam and Eve looked at each
other they realized that they had done something terribly wrong because
that glory of God that was once shining through them was now gone.
Their “perfect” bodies were now fallen. This is why they were so
ashamed, guilt immediately set in, and they knew they had trespassed
the Almighty. Knowing this, we can come to truly comprehend what was
really taking place in the rest of this verse:
“7 Then the eyes of
both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they
sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.”
The
first action they took in response to this “shame” was to make clothing
out of foliage. We now understand what was really going through their
minds at this point. Let me make my case by asking you a question.
Remember when you were young and you did something terribly wrong and
you knew if your parents found out you were going to be grounded for
the rest of your life. I don’t know about you but this situation
occurred many times with me. In one particular instance my mother had
left the house to go grocery shopping and my brothers and I engaged in
a game of dodge-ball….inside the house. We had about a solid 15 minutes
of calamitous and raucous fun before someone missed his target, and
instead blasted one of my mom’s porcelain bird statues to pieces. Shame
and guilt overwhelmed us all and instead of admitting responsibility
for playing a game inside the house, that we clearly knew our parents
would have vetoed, we instead took the evidence and buried it,
literally, in our backyard. Anyway, our mom eventually noticed she was
one chickadee short of her artificial aviary and we were all sentenced
to our much deserved chastisement. My point is this, when the guilt and
shame of a wrong doing overwhelms a person, their first inclination is
to hide or destroy the evidence. Consider not being grounded for the
rest of your life, but all of eternity. This inhibition to hide sin is
what we see when King David impregnated Bathsheba and killed Uriah;
this is what we see when Achan plundered forbidden treasure and buried
it under his tent; and this is what we see when Adam and Eve disobeyed
God and sewed fig leaves together for clothing. They assumed that they
could cover up the mess they made. However, Adam and Eve’s mistake
(like David’s) was in believing they could hide anything from God. They
figured that if they could simply cover up their corrupted bodies, they
could in fact conceal their iniquity. Here we can see how the fall
affected their mind, in reason and judgment, as their perception and
knowledge of God was already misconstrued. They no longer believed in
their creator as an omniscient and omnipresent being.
8 Then the
man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in
the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the LORD God among
the trees of the garden. 9 But the LORD God called to the man, "Where
are you?" 10 He answered, "I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid
because I was naked; so I hid."
These next three verses are
interesting; we are first given a depiction of God walking amongst the
garden in some visible form. “Where are you?” The question was God’s
way of bringing man to explain why he was hiding, rather than
expressing ignorance about man’s location. God knew where they were and
He knew what had happened. He called to them as a means of forcing
confession. Once the truth comes out and judgment is sentenced upon all
three (Adam, Eve and the serpent), we are told in verse 21 that God
made “tunics of skin, and clothed them.” This verse is worth noting
because it brings to light two very interesting aspects of this story
that the scriptures are suggesting. The first is understood as a
sacrifice having taken place. God made them clothing (literally covered
up their shame) with animal skin. There is only one way you are going
to get an animal to give up its skin and that is if you kill him to get
it. Here we have the first substitutionary sacrifice as literally,
covering up the shame and guilt of iniquity. Secondly we are shown that
God Himself gave them these articles of clothing to wear. Clothing was
no longer just a man devised by-product of guilt, but now, a God
ordained means of protection. Man was forever corrupted, no longer
bearing the perfect image and glory of God. As a result of the fall,
clothing now bears three essential purposes. Because there was no
longer that pure and holy physical body, Adam and Eve were given tunics
by which to shield themselves from the dangerous elements of the world.
Because of the corruption of our bodies, clothing gives us the ability
to avoid judgment and scrutiny from others (even the most glamorous and
picturesque movie stars and models have imperfections…trust me I would
know, I work with them). And because of the corruption of our spirit
and desires, we are given the ability to help protect ourselves, as
well as others, from sexual perversions in seduction and enticement.
O.K.
with all of this in mind, you may now understand why modesty is more
complex than we like to think, because nakedness, in and of itself, is
NOT sin. I repeat, it is NOT sin. WE ARE SINFUL. Coverings were created
as a RESULT of sin and corruption. For those of you who would disagree,
ask yourselves why it is wrong to watch a pornographic film but it is
fine to read a National Geographic? Why is it condemnable to stare at a
Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendar and condonable to stare at the
Sistine Chapel? In Kenya, women walk around topless, but in Saudi
Arabia they are shrouded head to toe. Why? To find the answer to the
problem we must first recognize that WE ARE THE PROBLEM. Look no
further than yourself.
For anyone to truly answer the question
of what modest is, they must first realize how others will interpret
it. Granted no one can please or protect everyone else from their sin
nature, but we don’t need to add fuel to the flame. We all have a
fairly good idea of what message we are sending with the clothing we
wear.
Now this all brings me back to that young woman I passed
in the Old City of Jerusalem. She was covered from her head to her
ankles. I wasn’t attracted to her modesty; I was attracted to her
beauty. I think it would be better stated that I wasn’t “detracted”
from her beauty because of “immodesty.” I think many are under the
disillusion that being modest in and of itself is more “Godly” and
therefore the only important thing. If this was true why go shopping
for clothing at all? We should all just run around clad in potato
sacks. You CAN be beautiful and modest without showcasing yourself as
some kind of a nun with a makeup complex. You do NOT have to probe the
line of decency to win attraction. What attracted me so much to this
young Israeli woman was the fact that she was dressed in a manner which
complemented her features. She didn’t just dress modestly but she
dressed beautifully, and in such a manner that accentuated what beauty
she already possessed. By far the most interesting aspect of the way
this woman dressed was the fact that I hardly remember it at all. Let
me explain. I have a general recollection of what she was wearing but I
have a perfect recollection of her face. The pinnacle of a woman’s
beauty is in her face, and everything this young lady adorned herself
in only brought greater attention to it. Much like the use of triangles
in the composition of classical art, this young woman’s dress acted as
a guide to the focal point, the very pinnacle of her Imago Dei.
Everything about her dress pointed me to her face and everything about
her face pointed me to a wonderful artisan of a Creator. For that brief
moment, when I stood there, jaw dropped, eyes popping out of my face, I
wasn’t just awestruck by this woman’s beauty. I was marveling the very
signature of God. | | |
| On Friendship
I hate time. Things we knew so well remain as but a faded dream to even
the best of our recollections. A flower wilts, a statue crumbles and a
painting will eventually fade. Time changes things. Each day changes us
in some minuscule way, noticeable only over a significant expanse of
time.
Of the most difficult of these changes is losing
cherished friendships. It has become apparent to me over the past year
that true friendships consist of more than laughing companions and goof
off time. A friend is someone you can share even the most personal
afflictions of your own life. I once thought that “leaning on a friend”
was something you did after one too many beers. Little did I realize
that a friend isn’t a title you give to the person with which you spend
in good cheers, it is a melding of individual souls in pursuit of
something greater. I can’t count the number of hours I have spent with
my friends in TN TP-ing people’s houses or lighting each other’s farts,
but I know that the time I spent with my friends at College, as limited
as it was, was by far superior.
I was bound to my friends in
TN merely by what we didn’t take seriously or to what we were
indifferent (namely anything that required thinking). And that is the
difference between my acquaintances and my friends. I engage with my
friends on a completely different level because our companionship
wasn’t based on our carelessness and apathy but something that we
believed was more important than ourselves. Our service to God and our
manner in which we would serve him. We simply cared about the same
things and in the same way. This makes me realize that a strong
friendship can never be based on just humor, good laughs and a
carelessness for life, but requires a mutual passion for things greater
than ourselves.
I have heard many stories of men on the
battlefield throwing their lives in the way of danger to spare
another’s. I have never heard such stories of frap buddies in a drunken
stupor. Seeking a common ultimate goal gives us the capacity to
encourage each other, suffer with each other and sharpen each other.
These are the toils that friends collectively endure to ultimately bond
in spirit. Like the battering strikes at iron which turn minerals of
rock into a blade of perfection. So it is that a true friend is not
someone that you only laugh with but one that you hurt with. This is
the link between friends that even time can’t change. The type of
friendships that last generations. | | |
| On Memory
It is amazing to me just how much of my past I forget. I am one of many
who suffers from the cruel and unprejudiced sting of a bad memory.
Rarely do I ever exit my house without reentering it more than once in
attempt to attain all the needed items before leaving. When I worked at
a restaurant as a delivery driver I would go to great lengths to make
sure that I had all the necessary items for the delivery such as the
directions, receipt, cash book, then forget the obvious things like the
food that I am supposed to be delivering or the keys that go to my car.
Often times I forget simple things like eating. If I am not put
on a set schedule to partake of the necessary three meals, I often go
to sleep realizing that I substituted breakfast, lunch and dinner for a
half-eaten bag of Doritos and a box of Juicy Juice.
One of the
worse things a bad memory can do to you though, is choose to forget the
names of people you know. Forgetting names has been the bane of my
existence. Granted, not forgetting the names of the people that are
your best friends, but rather those one-timers, the people you may sit
down and have a short and inspiring conversation with and then don’t
see for about three months. Nothing makes you feel smaller than calling
someone by the wrong name. “ No, really. I call everyone whose name is
John, Paul…uhhh… it’s kind of a quirk of mine. You didn’t know that?”
Ugggg! Ladies and Gentlemen, due to the escalating cabin pressure of
embarrassment in Dave, he will now be releasing the tension, by
creating a cavity in his head by means of a gun.
The only
thing worse than forgetting things that you have done or experienced in
the past is creating things to believe about your past. I can’t tell
you how many times I have gone out on escapades like cliff jumping and
wound up with stories of 300 foot drops and nearly escaping a heard of
alligators. Doing this may be more exciting and even fun but suddenly
you find yourself trying to cipher between what really happened and
your exaggeration.
Recently I have come to a new, yet equally
demoralizing effect of a fading memory. I was reading some of the major
works by Francis Bacon today, completely enthralled with the knowledge
and wisdom that I was basking in. I was enjoying my time thoroughly up
until I realized that the highlights and penciled notes on every page
were my own. All the great knowledge and information that I thought I
was learning, I had apparently learned it before and forgot it.
This
is by far one of the most depressing things that has ever happened to
me. What good is reading if you don’t retain it?! I may as well have
sat in front of a blank wall contemplating my navel than spending the
necessary hours it took to read that book in the first place. As I
pondered more about this I began to see just how important a healthy
memory really is. This could be the cause of why my faith suffers so
dearly at times. In those times of trials and tribulations I so easily
forget the goodness of God and deny my spiritual responsibilities on
the whim of a temptation. I pray Lord that if the world should fade
from my conscious like a ghost in the morning fog, your truth would
never fade from my mind. Please keep the truth of your word seared in
my heart. | | |
| On Africa
My first step out of the airport was somewhat entrepreneurial. I take
in a deep breath and fill my lungs with the sweet air of Africa. There
is a thickness to this wild and untamed land, and in breathing in, I
feel like I will suffocate. A plethora of emotions swarm inside of me,
like a freshly shaken hornets nest. "I am finally here" I tell myself
again and again as our 24 passenger bus careened down the dusty dirt
road, weaving in and out to avoid the crater-size potholes. We had
arrived at night and the darkness veiled the surroundings. This made
the anticipation swell up all the more. I couldn't wait to see what
Africa was really like. To witness first hand another country, another
way of life. It wasn't till the sun began to rise the next morning and
the darkness lifted, that I began to see Africa for what it really was.
Passing down the narrow streets and corridors I could feel my heart
grow heavy with a weight that seemed to drown it in my stomach where it
would dwell for the next two weeks. Like some horrid channel on the
television, peering out the window of the buss brought images of men
building fires in the open fields trying to stay warm, women walking
barefoot along the filth-ridden streets and children sleeping
underneath bridges. Garbage lay in heaps everywhere and littered the
cities like a cancer. I saw mothers bathing their newborns in the city
rivers and fathers baking a ears of corn over and open fire as young,
eager eyes watched in anticipation.
This is the real Africa.
No longer hidden behind the beautiful imagery provided by Disney movies
or National Geographic magazines. This is the side of Africa that
Americans prefer not to see or choose not to. I close my eyes and
imagine that I am away from this place and back home where life is easy
to live with. I wish a simple click of my shoes and this would all go
away. I open my eyes. Still here. Now that I am here, there was no
flipping the page, no switching the channel and no turning away.
We
arrive in Rongo, Kenya where we reserve our hotel for the next ten
days. Two people to a room, two beds, two mosquito nets and one
bathroom where a dirty cold shower awaits.
Once we are settled
in to our hotels work begins on the church and school. We arrive at
Winyo Christian Academy. The sound is incredible. We step off the bus
to 200 children singing my favorite hymn It Is Well With My Soul. They
sang it in English and the first thing that comes to my mind is, "I
understand this song!"
Life in Africa for the next two weeks
was difficult. Long days and hard work quickly deprive us of our energy
and motivation. Each new day brought with it a brazen sunrise and an
sufficient dilemmas. Our first real problem came when hundreds of
dollars worth of battery powered power tools became absolutely
worthless when our battery charger blew up. Ironically our
technologically advanced American means of fast paced production were
left in the corner like a lame camel. Many days we were left without
the necessary materials we needed to work so we spent our down time
playing with the kids. At first we were all really disappointed that we
couldn't get the work that we needed to get done done, but then we
realized that these children cared more about playing with us then they
ever cared about having desks for their school. They would just as soon
sit on the dirt floor and do their homework if it would give them ten
more minutes of playtime with us.
One thing that hit me the
most about the African people was their sense of complacency. The
African people have nothing. Nothing. Most of them live in mud or dung
huts and make about $1.20 for a full day's worth of work. Barely enough
for them to live on, but yet they are all so happy. I have never met
some many happy faces in my life. The only thing more amazing than
their sense of complacency was their sense of giving. These people had
so little but all they ever wanted was to give away what little that
they had. We visited the home of a child named Dennis. Dennis' father
had died about two years ago and his family's only source of income
were the peanuts that they would pluck from the ground and sell to the
local markets. They themselves had very little to eat yet they offered
us everything they had. Dennis' mother even offered us their only
chicken, which they had been raising for the last two months.
I
had gone to Africa with the idea that I would bestow upon these people
the great knowledge and spirituality that I had. I was going to show
them how to be the Christian. I didn't believe that they would teach me
what it meant to be a Christian.
Getting on that bus and leaving
Winyo on that last day once again brought a variety of feelings which
swelled inside me, this time it wasn't enthusiasm, but a deep aching
that seemed to grasp the whole of my gut and twisted tightly like a
towel rung dry. I thought about the work we had done over the last two
weeks. I thought about the people we met and the children we played
with. I thought about how the children cried and begged us not to
leave. I thought about home and how I couldn't wait to see my parents,
then I thought about how many of these kids didn't have parents to go
home to. Most of these children's day would end with an empty stomach
and a dirt floor to sleep on. Suddenly I remembered the first day when
we had arrived in Winyo, the children singing It Is Well With My Soul.
I realized then that perhaps I did know the song that they were
singing, but I didn't "understand" it at all. These kids knew what it
was truly like to suffer, yet everyone of them shined with a joy in
their spirit that I had never before seen. This children would really
learn what it meant to be happy in Christ. As the school slowly drifted
out of sight I realized that whenever I thought about Africa again, I
wouldn't think about the blue Serengeti sky or its golden fields. I
wouldn't think about wild animals or the exotic plant life that I
remember from TV. When I think about Africa I will remember thousands
of smiling white teeth, I will remember four hundred glimmering brown
eyes. I will remember the sound of 200 children singing It Is Well With
My Soul.
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