oh snap

me: what did you dress up as for halloween?

k (age 3): we don't celebrate the devil.

me: oh.

the vision for the heavenly city

listen to isaiah 65:17-25:

"'Behold, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind.

But be glad and rejoice forever in what I will create, for I will create Jerusalem to be a delight and its people a joy.

I will rejoice over Jerusalem and take delight in my people; the sound of weeping and of crying will be heard in it no more.

Never again will there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his years; he who dies at a hundred will be thought a mere youth; he who fails to reach a hundred will be considered accursed.

They will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit.

No longer will they build houses and others live in them, or plant and others eat. For as the days of a tree, so will the days of my people; my chosen ones will long enjoy the works of their hands.

They will not toil in vain or bear children doomed to misfortune; for they will be a people blessed by the Lord, they and their descendants with them.

Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear.

The wolf and the lamb will feed together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox, but dust will be the serpent's food. They will neither harm nor destroy in all my holy mountain,' says the Lord."

mark gornik shares this passage in the introduction of his book to live in peace as he lays down some basic theological commitments about the city and its renewal.

what is striking about these verses is not just the hope that they offer, or the location of renewal within the city, but how god's heart is so clearly tied to the reversal of the particular struggles of humanity, specifically the poor.

consider the promise that "they will not . . . bear children doomed to misfortune." god, it seems, is aware of the cycle of poverty as a social fact of the fallen world. and he wants it broken and for there to be celebration as people are freed from it.

i don't think we should take this passage as a whole and this verse in particular as a mandate to run out and get busy "helping." that probably won't work quite as well as we initially think. but it is a call to be present with those who have not and to be a part of the community that seeks justice and the new city.

the shape of god's redemption of the city isn't his tritely saying to us, "now now it'll all be better." he doesn't leave us waiting alone and attempting to console ourselves in the midst of brokenness until some vaguely defined eschaton.

rather god names the specific difficulties of this life, whether in the ancient near east or contemporary society - the pain, the weeping, the injustice, whether premature death, homelessness, being unable to work for one's self and for one's family, perpetual poverty.

then he provided his son to break the power of the curse over the world and our hearts, thus bringing life and light through his resurrection. now his spirit is at work through us, his church, to bring in the heavenly city, in whatever forms it might be manifested this side of christ's return.

an unlikely dinosaur

me to a two year old about the t-rex toy she's holding: where's its mommy and daddy?

two year old: i'm its mommy.

me: oh. who's its daddy?

two year old: i don't know.

i'll go crazy if i don't go crazy tonight

get ready for i and love and you

on faith, mercy, and the struggle with brokenness

"Mercy is a door. It is a portal through which we catch a glimpse of the heart of God. A gentle tug on our heartstrings draws us in.

But soon we encounter brokenness so overwhelming that neither the tender-hearted nor the inventive problem-solver feel up to the task. Our solutions fall short. Pathologies are too deep, poverty too entrenched. And we descend into our own poverty, a poverty of spirit, a crisis of confidence in our own abilities to rescue.

We are tempted to withdraw, to retreat to a more manageable world. Yet our hearts constrain us. Or our guilt. We feel trapped. And, like the broken, we find ourselves calling out to God for answers.

When our best efforts have failed us, we are left with nothing to cling to but frail faith. In a strange twist of divine irony, those who would extend mercy discover that they themselves are in need of mercy."

- bob lupton

living in a beach front paradise

last week i finally found that long sought after libertarian paradise. no it's not in idaho or upstate new york. it's called cape hatteras and it's in north carolina.

i spent the first week of august there with a group of friends. we rented a large house a few lots off of the ocean. the house was great. the beach was great. the friends were great.

the whole experience was called "bwool," which stands for "best week of our lives." we plan on having one of those every year forever. sick.

towards the end of the week something clicked in my head and made me realize "ah-ha, this is it! this is what free people have been looking for." sort of.

on hatteras you basically govern yourself. there isn't a real police presence from what i could tell, nor does one seem particularly necessary on an island fifty miles from the nearest bridge to the mainland. no lifeguards patrolling. you can drink on the beach during the day and build a fire there at night. fireworks are technically illegal, but plenty of people were setting them off, even from the back deck of their house.

the only significant regulation i saw were a couple thin stretches of beach which had been closed off for sea turtles to lay their eggs. charming.

this isn't to say that you can do whatever you'd like. i'm sure that you'd be quickly stared down by the large family groups assembled on the beach and have sand kicked on you for, say, blasting excessively loud music in their presence. additionally, every house a sign on it that lists both the name of the house and its realtor. these houses are filled with people who take their vacation seriously and if you're too far out of line, i'd imagine they could kick you out pretty fast.

but all in all people can pretty much do as they please, unencumbered by the cold, hard chains of rules and regulations, instead conforming to a delightful form of life that has been constructed and refined through years and years of vacationing.

yes, this is it. the perfect place. for at least three thousand dollars a week during peak season it can be yours. we paid forty-five hundred for our week. something beach front will be at least a couple thousand more.

there's something unsettling to me about hatteras being so cloistered and homogenous and yet so loved by me. but relative to the clutter and bustle of nags head and kitty hawk, i'll manage the struggle with the dilemmas of living the high life one week a year.