from greg perry's lecture on ephesians:
much of Christianity is lived today "on pause". we're saved and then we simply wait for the end. but we have received the spoils of Christ's victory and it is our responsibility to share it. we must show the Lordship of Christ to all the prinicpalities and authorities of this dark world. we must show Christ's Lordship in all things. how do we embrace the imminence of God at school, in the shop and on the highways?
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
found on chalk-board
up here in my tree
newspapers mailing up to me
no more crowbars to my head
i'm trading stories with the leaves instead
newspapers mailing up to me
no more crowbars to my head
i'm trading stories with the leaves instead
8 nightmares
As a young child, I was so scared of being abandoned. My dream was that
we were visiting D.C. We were at the Lincoln Memorial or the Capital
building (which ever has a lot of steps). On our way up the steps I
would trip. When I go up to gather myself, nobody I knew was around. I
remember vividly that there was a lot of people walking by me but no one
was willing to help. I remember myself panicing inside but was not able
to scream... I was the most helpless feeling ever.
Moon Phong
when I was little, I used to have a recurring nightmare. It doesn't actually sound that scary, but it terrified me. I dreamt that I was at the carnival, and I went up into that thing where you climb the net and crawl through the tunnels and then slide down a slide and land in a big bin of plastic balls. So, I'd climb, and crawl, and then sliiiiiide down, only I slid all the way down into a dark scary basement and landed into a giant pot where a witch wanted to eat me. She never ate me before I woke up, though. I seriously had it at least once a week for years. It scared the crap out of me.
Ashley Homans
Then, there was last night.... I dreamt I was back in Europe. I was
actually out walking on the tarmac at the airport and my bags popped open.
As I was bent over scooping stuff back in, my trip paperwork caught my eye. I realized that I had screwed up my days and was at the airport an entireday late. I was mortified, convinced I was trapped now in Europe since I missed my flight and soooooo angry at myself that I could have made such a huge mistake. I was grateful to wake up in bed on that one. Weird stuff, dreams.
John Seilback
I was walking down a dirt road way back in the woods by myself. There was nothing around including no houses. I heard a noise behind me and I turned around and there was a strange man running after me. I ran as hard and fast as I could. He had a glass bottle and when he got close to me, he broke the bottle on a stone. He held the bottle in his hand and cut the top of my head open in an "X" across the top of my head. I actually could feel the warm blood run down my face from my skull. When it reached my eyes, everything went black and I dropped to the ground and I woke up after that feeling my head. I really thought it had happened.
Deanna Knoppel
I have a recurring dream about showing up for a performance where I
have a substantial role, but I realize I haven't been to any of the
rehearsals. Often I am naked in this dream as I make my way through
the staring cast members back stage toward the curtain, where I know my
shame and embarrassment will be complete. Most of all I hope to avoid
my director, who I know will be profoundly disappointed in me. I want
to avoid the inevitability of the event, but I know that avoidance is
impossible.
The Performer
Well, I will tell you my best dream. This is going to sound really lame.
In my dream our family was just hanging around the house when we hear the doorbell ring. I go to answer it, and wouldn't you know it, it's Bono! He tells me he's giving out free ipods!
Eliza Becker
My worst dream was a recurring one I had when I was little. I used to dream that I was at a formal ball, like the one in Sound of Music. It was a huge room with a spiral staircase and balcony in the back. All of a sudden the front doors would burst open and lots of alligators, with teeth snarled and eyes glared, came charging in. Everyone ran up the stairs, but of course, I could only run in slow motion. Everyone was yelling and urging me to run, but no matter how I tried, I could not get out of slow motion. I was terrified. The alligators were nipping at my heels.......................the end.
I'm glad they never ate me before that dream was over:-))
Anonymous
I frequently dream that I'm talking with animals. It's not at all novel when it's happening. We just speak, yet they remain animals. It's usually domesticated dogs, seals, things with fur that I have to bend down to a bit.
One time Lucky, my friend Neil's dog, looked up at me and said with tilted head and longing eyes, "Little." She was referring to a picture of a chicken I had placed before her eyes. Neil's daughter told me that only pictures of chickens could calm Lucky down when she was spastic. Evidently, my chicken wasn't good enough.
I believe we were created to talk with the animals.
Tom Becker
we were visiting D.C. We were at the Lincoln Memorial or the Capital
building (which ever has a lot of steps). On our way up the steps I
would trip. When I go up to gather myself, nobody I knew was around. I
remember vividly that there was a lot of people walking by me but no one
was willing to help. I remember myself panicing inside but was not able
to scream... I was the most helpless feeling ever.
Moon Phong
when I was little, I used to have a recurring nightmare. It doesn't actually sound that scary, but it terrified me. I dreamt that I was at the carnival, and I went up into that thing where you climb the net and crawl through the tunnels and then slide down a slide and land in a big bin of plastic balls. So, I'd climb, and crawl, and then sliiiiiide down, only I slid all the way down into a dark scary basement and landed into a giant pot where a witch wanted to eat me. She never ate me before I woke up, though. I seriously had it at least once a week for years. It scared the crap out of me.
Ashley Homans
Then, there was last night.... I dreamt I was back in Europe. I was
actually out walking on the tarmac at the airport and my bags popped open.
As I was bent over scooping stuff back in, my trip paperwork caught my eye. I realized that I had screwed up my days and was at the airport an entireday late. I was mortified, convinced I was trapped now in Europe since I missed my flight and soooooo angry at myself that I could have made such a huge mistake. I was grateful to wake up in bed on that one. Weird stuff, dreams.
John Seilback
I was walking down a dirt road way back in the woods by myself. There was nothing around including no houses. I heard a noise behind me and I turned around and there was a strange man running after me. I ran as hard and fast as I could. He had a glass bottle and when he got close to me, he broke the bottle on a stone. He held the bottle in his hand and cut the top of my head open in an "X" across the top of my head. I actually could feel the warm blood run down my face from my skull. When it reached my eyes, everything went black and I dropped to the ground and I woke up after that feeling my head. I really thought it had happened.
Deanna Knoppel
I have a recurring dream about showing up for a performance where I
have a substantial role, but I realize I haven't been to any of the
rehearsals. Often I am naked in this dream as I make my way through
the staring cast members back stage toward the curtain, where I know my
shame and embarrassment will be complete. Most of all I hope to avoid
my director, who I know will be profoundly disappointed in me. I want
to avoid the inevitability of the event, but I know that avoidance is
impossible.
The Performer
Well, I will tell you my best dream. This is going to sound really lame.
In my dream our family was just hanging around the house when we hear the doorbell ring. I go to answer it, and wouldn't you know it, it's Bono! He tells me he's giving out free ipods!
Eliza Becker
My worst dream was a recurring one I had when I was little. I used to dream that I was at a formal ball, like the one in Sound of Music. It was a huge room with a spiral staircase and balcony in the back. All of a sudden the front doors would burst open and lots of alligators, with teeth snarled and eyes glared, came charging in. Everyone ran up the stairs, but of course, I could only run in slow motion. Everyone was yelling and urging me to run, but no matter how I tried, I could not get out of slow motion. I was terrified. The alligators were nipping at my heels.......................the end.
I'm glad they never ate me before that dream was over:-))
Anonymous
I frequently dream that I'm talking with animals. It's not at all novel when it's happening. We just speak, yet they remain animals. It's usually domesticated dogs, seals, things with fur that I have to bend down to a bit.
One time Lucky, my friend Neil's dog, looked up at me and said with tilted head and longing eyes, "Little." She was referring to a picture of a chicken I had placed before her eyes. Neil's daughter told me that only pictures of chickens could calm Lucky down when she was spastic. Evidently, my chicken wasn't good enough.
I believe we were created to talk with the animals.
Tom Becker
Thursday, April 13, 2006
time machine
Our time machine slowly descended onto the fertile plains of En Gedi. We found ourselves surrounded by the lush vegetation of this Israeli desert oasis. A thin, high waterfall echoed its song behind us. David once hid here from Saul and his men. We would hide our time machine here. We found a cove just the right size behind the wall of water. The recent modifications to our HoverGear allowed us to float over the river and into the cave. Once we had scampered down the face of the cliff, we began our hike into Jerusalem. We had dressed as inconspicuously as possible, basing our outfits on historical accounts we had collected from various books, magazines and old films about Jesus. It took us most of the day and part of the next to hike into the city. This was not our first trip into ancient Jerusalem (256 AD to be exact). A year previously we had gone to the year prior (that is to say in 2005, we went to 255 AD). We had made minimal contact then. Our sociological studies would continue on this trip with some significant one-on-one conversations with the natives.
We approached the city at about mid-day. The old city is far simpler, and more beautiful, than I had remembered. The open scar where the temple once sat upon its mount in the middle of the small city stood out like a hellish oasis. Still, when I first saw it last year, at sunset, it took my breath away. Our group of three, my teammate Richmond and our translator Gideon, entered the city by the Jaffa Gate. The market was bustling with people. I went up to one stand chock full of olives. The black ones looked like dark eyeballs, their coarse seed pupils looking up at my white skin with curiosity. Our translator struck up a conversation in Aramaic. We spoke with Jacob about the weather, about the current going rate on olives and particular fruits and about living in Jerusalem. While we stood there talking, I felt someone’s eyes boring through the side of my head. It turned out to be a man named Aaron. He was a young fisherman from Rome. Well, actually he was originally from Jerusalem and had returned for a couple months time. He seemed very interested in us, so we struck up a conversation with him and walked into a corner of a nearby alley, the walls of Jerusalem towering above our heads.
As part of our experiment, I pulled out a carefully wrapped package from my knapsack. While Aaron watched, I unraveled my brand new Apple iBook®, iPod® and iBrain® (The iBrain® is a product that will be invited by Apple in the year 2025. It’s a cell phone/palm pilot/mp5 player that expands into a regular sized laptop. It’s solar powered, satellite connected and even offers accessories to make coffee with. It remembers, and does, everything for you. I got it with the help of my time-machine). I was excited to record video of Aaron and the rest of us with the iBrain® video camera and play it back to watch. Aaron had a difficult time understanding that he was watching himself. He didn’t understand what all of the gadgets were for. He didn’t seem to appreciate my excitement.
Then Aaron started to get excited about something. He began talking so fast that our translator had great difficulty keeping up. He switched between Hebrew and Aramaic as he spoke. I began to pick up certain words. I heard Yeshua and Yahweh. Then, it dawned on me, This man is a Christian. He told us the story of his fiancée Claudia, a Roman girl who had become a believer through the testimony of a friend. Recently she was thrown to the lions at the Coliseum. Our research indicated that the persecution had restarted around this time, but Aaron’s story confirmed our speculation. As he continued, I looked down at my iBrain®. Raindrops were beginning to fall on its white plastic cover. I looked up into the clear blue Israeli sky. Not a cloud in sight. Suddenly I felt the warm moisture of tears on my cheeks. Then Aaron told us the story of the first time he had heard about Jesus. A close friend in Rome risked his life to tell Aaron about him. It was only a short time before he put his trust in “the Christ”. And now his fiancée was dead and the world seemed to be closing in on Christianity. But oddly enough, he said, there seemed to be more Christians then ever. Aaron faced almost certain death for so freely talking about his faith with us. But he couldn’t help himself. It oozed out of him like my excitement for future plastic-coated technology. Aaron was a fisherman, but he lived his life as a follower of Jesus.
We dined with Aaron that night. Through him, we met many other believers. They loved each other with a sincerity and a reality I had never seen before. They loved each other with purpose and meaning. They spoke of persecutions and they spoke of heaven. The next day, after spending more time in the city, we readied for an early departure. We had gathered more information than we had dared to hope for before we came. As we hiked back to En Gedi, my mind wondered to Aaron and then to the iBrain® in my backpack. I felt both great guilt and the strange pull of hope. We had been encouraged. We had witnessed something we never expected. But how would we carry Aaron’s heart into our world? Ours is so different. But I also realized that it is very similar. Christianity is still offensive. Eclecticism of religion is the norm. I must find ways to appeal to my fellow man in the ways that Aaron had with his fellow man. As I stepped in our time machine the tears were, again, streaming down my face. I had a vision from the past to take back with me to the present and a toy in my backpack to take back to the future.
We approached the city at about mid-day. The old city is far simpler, and more beautiful, than I had remembered. The open scar where the temple once sat upon its mount in the middle of the small city stood out like a hellish oasis. Still, when I first saw it last year, at sunset, it took my breath away. Our group of three, my teammate Richmond and our translator Gideon, entered the city by the Jaffa Gate. The market was bustling with people. I went up to one stand chock full of olives. The black ones looked like dark eyeballs, their coarse seed pupils looking up at my white skin with curiosity. Our translator struck up a conversation in Aramaic. We spoke with Jacob about the weather, about the current going rate on olives and particular fruits and about living in Jerusalem. While we stood there talking, I felt someone’s eyes boring through the side of my head. It turned out to be a man named Aaron. He was a young fisherman from Rome. Well, actually he was originally from Jerusalem and had returned for a couple months time. He seemed very interested in us, so we struck up a conversation with him and walked into a corner of a nearby alley, the walls of Jerusalem towering above our heads.
As part of our experiment, I pulled out a carefully wrapped package from my knapsack. While Aaron watched, I unraveled my brand new Apple iBook®, iPod® and iBrain® (The iBrain® is a product that will be invited by Apple in the year 2025. It’s a cell phone/palm pilot/mp5 player that expands into a regular sized laptop. It’s solar powered, satellite connected and even offers accessories to make coffee with. It remembers, and does, everything for you. I got it with the help of my time-machine). I was excited to record video of Aaron and the rest of us with the iBrain® video camera and play it back to watch. Aaron had a difficult time understanding that he was watching himself. He didn’t understand what all of the gadgets were for. He didn’t seem to appreciate my excitement.
Then Aaron started to get excited about something. He began talking so fast that our translator had great difficulty keeping up. He switched between Hebrew and Aramaic as he spoke. I began to pick up certain words. I heard Yeshua and Yahweh. Then, it dawned on me, This man is a Christian. He told us the story of his fiancée Claudia, a Roman girl who had become a believer through the testimony of a friend. Recently she was thrown to the lions at the Coliseum. Our research indicated that the persecution had restarted around this time, but Aaron’s story confirmed our speculation. As he continued, I looked down at my iBrain®. Raindrops were beginning to fall on its white plastic cover. I looked up into the clear blue Israeli sky. Not a cloud in sight. Suddenly I felt the warm moisture of tears on my cheeks. Then Aaron told us the story of the first time he had heard about Jesus. A close friend in Rome risked his life to tell Aaron about him. It was only a short time before he put his trust in “the Christ”. And now his fiancée was dead and the world seemed to be closing in on Christianity. But oddly enough, he said, there seemed to be more Christians then ever. Aaron faced almost certain death for so freely talking about his faith with us. But he couldn’t help himself. It oozed out of him like my excitement for future plastic-coated technology. Aaron was a fisherman, but he lived his life as a follower of Jesus.
We dined with Aaron that night. Through him, we met many other believers. They loved each other with a sincerity and a reality I had never seen before. They loved each other with purpose and meaning. They spoke of persecutions and they spoke of heaven. The next day, after spending more time in the city, we readied for an early departure. We had gathered more information than we had dared to hope for before we came. As we hiked back to En Gedi, my mind wondered to Aaron and then to the iBrain® in my backpack. I felt both great guilt and the strange pull of hope. We had been encouraged. We had witnessed something we never expected. But how would we carry Aaron’s heart into our world? Ours is so different. But I also realized that it is very similar. Christianity is still offensive. Eclecticism of religion is the norm. I must find ways to appeal to my fellow man in the ways that Aaron had with his fellow man. As I stepped in our time machine the tears were, again, streaming down my face. I had a vision from the past to take back with me to the present and a toy in my backpack to take back to the future.
household
7:00 PM april 12, 2006
kelli and matt: getting ready for matt’s parents to come over
kelli: cleaning the kitchen
matt: getting maia ready for bed
matt: paper due that night
kelli: microwaves maia’s milk, unknown to matt, doesn’t place lid on
matt: opens microwave, grabs milk… shakes
milk: everywhere…
kelli and matt: getting ready for matt’s parents to come over
kelli: cleaning the kitchen
matt: getting maia ready for bed
matt: paper due that night
kelli: microwaves maia’s milk, unknown to matt, doesn’t place lid on
matt: opens microwave, grabs milk… shakes
milk: everywhere…
the dream project
When I was a child I had a dream that I was walking through my parents woods. Suddenly, a giant thorny bush emerged on the path I was walking. Women's arms reached out of the bush and grabbed me from behind. Someone called to me in the distance (perhaps my mother). Clouds began to darken the sky. And I awoke.
My friend Vince is terrified of birds. Especially dead ones. One night he had a dream that he was visiting his aunt. On their way, they stopped at a park to play. His parents and brother got out of the car and began running, looking back and calling Vince to get of the car and follow. But Vince couldn’t move for the fear that gripped him. He lay in a jumbled mass in the back seat, petrified. You see, as Vince’s family trounced gleefully through the pretty park, they were treading on dead birds. Dead birds that covered all the ground in the park. Piles and piles of them. All the same, his family delightfully ran on.
What is the worst dream you've had (or the best)? Drop a post or drop me an e-mail.
My friend Vince is terrified of birds. Especially dead ones. One night he had a dream that he was visiting his aunt. On their way, they stopped at a park to play. His parents and brother got out of the car and began running, looking back and calling Vince to get of the car and follow. But Vince couldn’t move for the fear that gripped him. He lay in a jumbled mass in the back seat, petrified. You see, as Vince’s family trounced gleefully through the pretty park, they were treading on dead birds. Dead birds that covered all the ground in the park. Piles and piles of them. All the same, his family delightfully ran on.
What is the worst dream you've had (or the best)? Drop a post or drop me an e-mail.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
walking
“you’ll think of something to write”, she said. “all of those firsts…” and there have been many this year. First full-time seminary load, first big move, first new area that kelli and i moved into together, and first baby. And Maia has had many firsts of her own. Rolling over for the first time, crawling, standing… and now—yes, that big one—walking. And so another monumental first is added to the list. On March 28th, our little daughter (at just over 9 1/2 months old) started walking.
And now she’s walking everywhere.
Her walking started with an uneasy side stepping, arms outstretched. (one friend said it looked as if she were dancing). But now, only one week since her first steps, she is setting about with full, hearty steps; at times even breaking into a bit of a run. She loves to walk about with her little yellow stuffed ducky, a toy doll nearly half her size. At times, she may drop ducky on the ground and stoop to crawl. But ducky gets stuck in-between her legs and he shuffles along with her still. Today, as we played a game of "hide-and-go-seek" (aka, "go-and-follow-daddy-as-he-hides-around-the-corner-and-calls-'Maia'") she barreled around the corner to find me. When she did, her face burst into a giant smile, and with outstretched arms she "ran" into her father's arms for a little hug.
So, as little Maia walks about, I’ll sit and wonder, grappling for more ways to write about all these firsts. The first teeth now protruding through her lower gums, the first little walking shoes sitting at the base of our front door… and the list goes on…
Monday, April 03, 2006
sunday storm
i never knew going to church could be such a dangerous venture. it's not normally, at least not until last night. as we drove to the evening meal and service at crossroads, the sky descended on us. demented twirls of cotton candy churned above us in varying shades of grey. God was readying his set. his latest short film was about to commence. it was old and familiar. aged to perfection. but still, it was new, dangerous... and strangely inviting. the actors in place, the quickly unfolding plot teased us with the threat of a tornado. the sirens screamed around the state, "GET INTO YOUR BASEMENTS. COLLECT YOUR CHILDREN. YOU ARE NOT SAFE". so we drove on.
a women seeking shelter ran her double-wide stroller up the hill next to Washington University. lights flickered. the red, yellow and green robots lost power as we approached an intersection. power lines exploded and sparked. and then the rain came. the key grips, summer interns and special effects assistants dumped their buckets down on us. and we watched. we watched and drove as the water turned to frozen, white peas; pelting us and driving us off of historic route 66 and indoors.
so we eat, we sang, we listened and we prayed and then the sun came out. the rain was gone... and our house's electricity had left with it. we returned to the darkness seeking candles and flashlights and batteries. in the calm, cool night air (the temperature had dropped from 80 to 55 in a few short hours) i sat on the porch talking with my brother. UFO's orderly lined up across the horizon, lazily waiting to descend upon Lambert International Airport. all was calm. the tree laying across Midland Blvd. had spared the ancient U-City home behind it. in a distant park more trees lay dead and uprooted. underneath one lay a hiker, Kent Cross (only 20 years old) the breath of life crushed out of him. another man's spirit departed from him when the roof of a clothing store fell on top of him. he was Delancey Moore, 54 years old. all of them victims. casualties to the sudden, angry burst of an early spring storm in st. louis.
and as i sat there on my front porch, in my fold-up camping chair, all was faded to black. the film short was over. spectators had been claimed, but not to the surprise of the director. the timing was perfect... everything went just as he had planned. why had things gone the way they had? who knows. why had the set exploded, claiming two lives? same answer. but i am confident that the director remains the director. i am confident that the funding for his next piece will not be denied. in fact, i know that now, right now, even as i type and the after-shocks of blustery wind pulsate outside, he is still directing. the story continues on... and so must i...
a women seeking shelter ran her double-wide stroller up the hill next to Washington University. lights flickered. the red, yellow and green robots lost power as we approached an intersection. power lines exploded and sparked. and then the rain came. the key grips, summer interns and special effects assistants dumped their buckets down on us. and we watched. we watched and drove as the water turned to frozen, white peas; pelting us and driving us off of historic route 66 and indoors.
so we eat, we sang, we listened and we prayed and then the sun came out. the rain was gone... and our house's electricity had left with it. we returned to the darkness seeking candles and flashlights and batteries. in the calm, cool night air (the temperature had dropped from 80 to 55 in a few short hours) i sat on the porch talking with my brother. UFO's orderly lined up across the horizon, lazily waiting to descend upon Lambert International Airport. all was calm. the tree laying across Midland Blvd. had spared the ancient U-City home behind it. in a distant park more trees lay dead and uprooted. underneath one lay a hiker, Kent Cross (only 20 years old) the breath of life crushed out of him. another man's spirit departed from him when the roof of a clothing store fell on top of him. he was Delancey Moore, 54 years old. all of them victims. casualties to the sudden, angry burst of an early spring storm in st. louis.
and as i sat there on my front porch, in my fold-up camping chair, all was faded to black. the film short was over. spectators had been claimed, but not to the surprise of the director. the timing was perfect... everything went just as he had planned. why had things gone the way they had? who knows. why had the set exploded, claiming two lives? same answer. but i am confident that the director remains the director. i am confident that the funding for his next piece will not be denied. in fact, i know that now, right now, even as i type and the after-shocks of blustery wind pulsate outside, he is still directing. the story continues on... and so must i...
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