Our Daily Bread

When I woke up this morning, Roy was in our room, giving Gabriel money with which to purchase a loaf of sourdough. Seeing I was awake, Gabriel asked me if I waned to go with him to Panera bread. I told him I would go to the caf. Then I started thinking about Broccoli Cheddar soup. So I told him I would meet him there.

I went through Biola’s back gate and traipsed about the slight inclines and valleys of the La Mirada neighborhoods to the La Mirada town center. It was already 12:30- I had slept in, given that the night before had been prolonged by discussion of theology and film.

When I got to Panera, Gabriel was sitting right next to the door. I set down my satchel and went to order. When I returned, I noticed that Gabriel’s plate and bowl of soup were empty and pushed aside, and he was munching a piece of sourdough bread.

“I paid for a third of it.” He said, by way of explanation. I nodded. Son enough, I was preoccupied with half a Bacon Turkey Bravo sandwich and a bowl of Broccoli Cheddar soup.

After a few hours of studying, Gabriel suggested we migrate to Dr. Yeh’s house, where there was an open invitation for the day to come and study, with coffee and tea provided by the great Allen Yeh himself.

Shortly, we arrived there, and after a cursory tour of Dr. Yeh’s very smart new residence, we settled in at the kitchen table with books in hand, cookies on a plate, and a pot of coffee bubbling nearby. Somehow, the loaf of bread had made it’s way out of Gabriel’s backpack and onto the table. I reached for a slice. Panera makes good bread.

I spent some time reading Romans for class- I listened to some lectures this summer by Dr. Knox Chamblin of the Reformed Theological Seminary- he referred to Saint Paul as “a Christ-intoxicated person”. Indeed he is. I used to think I didn’t like Paul. I can only assume this was a grievous consequence of a willingness to be told about Paul without an equal willingness to read him. I love Paul’s epistles. I shall be glad to spend more time in them in the coming semester. Already, Thessalonians has changed my view of Eschatology from a vague, discontented negation of “Left-Behind-esque thought” into a joyful affirmation of the hope we have in awaiting Christ’s return- even if I still feel uncomfortable attempting to solidify any details other than what is explicit in scripture.

When we left Dr. Yeh’s house, we realized that we had successfully eaten most of Roy’s bread. Gabriel needed to get to his parents’ house, so I just had him drop me off at Panera to get another loaf for Roy and simply walk back to Biola.

When I went to purchase the bread, however, the cashier informed me that there was no more sourdough. I decided to get Roy a thin loaf of Asiago cheese bread. When I got back to the room, I gave the loaf to Roy.

Several hours later, Roy walked into the room with a large loaf of Tomato Basil bread and a small block of cheddar cheese. Gabriel had just returned from his parents’, and Sam had been studying in the room. Roy offered us bread, and we partook together. It was very good.

I think the Church is beautiful; even in this fumbling of college students buying bread, there is an echo of the love of the apostles, sharing among themselves. Today, our comical failure to fetch bread for Roy turned into a running demonstration of Christian charity and generosity, taking joy in the benefit of others. Today, I partook of the communion of saints.

It was a good day.

Some Poetry

Two unrelated poems. Feedback?

If these dark hills were all the world, the world would not be small.

This infinite and endless sky, the lengths that light must fall,

The lamps that hang outside men’s doors, and fill the hills with stars,

The symphony of sweeping winds, the noise of passing cars.

At times we must recall ourselves, by journeying to see

Things not ourselves, things we could never even hope to be

“This then thou art, this neither then thou art” is well and good

But surely thou art not the wind, and thou art not the wood;

The length and span of human heart cannot the world contain,

And none can hold themselves sans martyrdom and pain.

If I am everything, the stars from sullen skies will fall

When I am all the world I see, the world indeed is small

*****

Let’s light the beacons on the hills,

The lanterns on the windowsills

Impelling roving sons return-

The time has come, at last, to learn,

The things most easily ignored.

Diminished things, at last restored

The King returns from Avalon

To sing a hymn in Albion,

And we, the children of the day

Will be made whole, as prophets say

And walk upon a windswept shore

Divine, but discontent no more.

Handbook for the Sellout chapter 1

So I was browsing iTunes today, and saw a new single by Anberlin... turns out they have a new album coming out in september.

Yes.

Contrary to the cynical title of this post, I'm very excited. The album is entitled "Dark is the way, light is a place"

So emo.

So brilliant.

I've listened to the two main tracks on YouTube ("Impossible"[the single] and "We Owe This to Ourselves"). To be honest, I thought the single was excessively poppy and repetitive, though the guitar riff was nice. The solo was classic Joseph Milligan- which means it was awesome- but I swear he does those same climaxing 3 bends in every solo. I'm not sure if this is bad though; better to be a bit predictable and brilliant than experimental and awful.

The next song was just brilliant- all in all can't wait for the album- but I'm disappointed that they haven't returned to Aaron Sprinkle for production. Yeah, I know it's cool to get your big name producers now that you're on a major label- but seriously, all that does is make you sound produced- which isn't really all that great.

Finally- a post!

So... it's summer.

...and I haven't written much.

Some English major I turned out to be.

But! I have in mind a project- a series of poems and short stories meditating on the concept of meanwhiles and in-betweens... stemming from an assignment from Dr. Sanders last semester to write about the Meanwhile-ology of anything in the light of protology and eschatology.

Most stories focus on significant and astounding events- yet those events are few and far between in real life. Most of our days we spend in between significant events- between matriculation and graduation, between falling in love and getting married. Between birth and death. All things told, it is in the meanwhile that we live, breathe, love, and spend our days.

So- anyway, I finally pulled one poem together, and it's kind of loose- I hope to expand it later- anyway, here it is:

A Worker takes his Daily Bread

The summer’s sliding days are slow and slothfully inclined

And hours from hours are seldom known, for all are like entwined,

When light let fall from heights above collides with blackened ground-

My teachers said light makes no noise, but I can hear the sound;

It rings and roams the skies about the sun-burnt workers head

As he walks slowly up the hill, to take his Daily Bread.

(My father spoke to me today, with frenzy in his eyes

“The World, the Flesh, and Devil three- are shadows and are lies)

The music of the spheres soaks through his green abundant sleeve

As he the hill ascends all to the Sacrament receive

The Holy See is surrounded is, and Switzerland has chilled,

Constantinople still recalls when Patriarchs were killed.

And all the three, unto this day, have Holy Martyrs lost

There will no peace on earth be found when Rubicons are crossed.

Yet all these wars that kingdoms cleave, are not of Kings alone

They shake as stern our dearest loves, as any Monarch’s throne.

The trembling, soil-encrusted hand, that drinks the Cup and prays,

Is all that ever mattered in these slow, inconstant days.

Finals week nonsense...

3AM.

Listening to Beirut.

The clacking rimshots work well with the tom beat.

Writing about my past and current misunderstandings of Jesus Christ, and the Spirits constant work of correcting them. 

The night is still outside my window.

The world is beautiful.

The End of a Good Story

Lost is ending.

Six years of the most head-spinning, heart-wrenching story telling to ever grace a cathode ray tube.

I can't wait. I'm typing this while sitting in the Sigma Chi Lobby, waiting for the 2 1/2 hour finale to start.

I know that the end will be disappointing to some degree. There can be no perfect ending... but there can and will be an AWESOME ending. 

Here's looking forward to it.  

And the People Rejoiced!

The City of Angels has been in need of a new shepherd for a while; and it appears it shall finally be getting one- Pope Benedict XVI has appointed Jose Gomez as the next Archbishop of Los Angeles.

Jose Gomez is not only strongly conservative regarding abortion and gay marriage, he is also an advocate of immigrant rights. He was born in Monterrey, Mexico (which just happens to be my father's home state), and has served as the Archbishop of San Antonio (which just happens to be my favorite city in Texas) since 2005. And, as the Archbishop of Los Angeles is traditionally admitted into the College of Cardinals, Gomez will become the first Hispanic Cardinal in the Roman Catholic Church, reflecting the changing demographic of Roman Catholocism.

Suffice it to say, I like the guy. I look forward to seeing how he deals with Los Angeles- and I hope that the Protestant community will recognize him as an ally. I hope and pray that God works through him to bring healing and reconciliation to our troubled city.