Good articles.

This is a story I just read on Relevant Magazine's website. You should read it now. It's short.

I was at work when I read this today, but after the first paragraph, I couldn't stop. The writing was so beautiful, it was as if my eyes were compelled to keep moving down the page.

I sometimes don't know what to think when I read articles like this - so well written and powerful. My first thought was for this man who the author met: how tragic of a story his must be. My second thought was for myself: could I ever respond as elegantly as the author did? Could I, in that moment, love this man? Buying him the diapers would be easy. But would I pray with him? Or would I be scared of... whatever. Embarrassment. Harming the gospel through reckless words. Awkward bumbling.

May God continue to be gracious with me as I rely more on his grace...

Read this.

http://stillsearching.wordpress.com/2009/02/27/are-you-a-christian-hipster/

This article sort of echoes some of my own observations and satire of the current Christian culture - especially at a Christian school.

Yay satire!

Chew on this.

I've been reading Leviticus lately. It's a fun book... And by fun, I mean somewhat difficult to get through. It's a lot more interesting when you consider the historical context of the book, but still, it's hard to read about wave offerings when that has little to do with the lives we lead now.

One verse caught my attention, though. Leviticus 19:9-10:

When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the alien. I am the LORD your God.

What does this mean in a modern context? For the ancient Jews, it was meant to provide a small amount of sustenance for the poor. By leaving the edges of the field unreaped and not being too thorough in harvesting, those with no fields would still be able to harvest. But what about us?

My sister does strange things. This shouldn't surprise people who know her. When she gets change after buying something at a store, she goes out in the parking lot and drops it. Sometimes all at once, sometimes one coin at a time. She figures that finding a penny cheers her up, so why not cheer others up? Is this a modern day application of this verse?

Or does it suggest that followers of the Lord should not always seek efficiency. Surely planting crops and then purposefully not harvesting them is inefficient. Maybe it means that we should even financially invest in ventures that we know will not yield a financial return (or, at least, not shy away from doing so).

I've been reading a book for our mission trip to Memphis called Theirs Is the Kingdom. (You should read this book.) It's written by a man who has been a missionary to inner city Atlanta for 15+ years. Our investment could produce jobs for those who don't have them and countless opportunities to share the message of Christ.

I can't really claim to know how to apply this these verses to our lives, but it's worth considering. What does this verse say about our God and the way we are to interact with the fruits of our labors?

Fear.

It's late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. Either way, I won't be able to sleep if I don't write something and the evening has been filled with other... activities.

I was reflecting on something in the shower today that I thought I'd try to spit up in a readable form for you all. I've been reading Genesis and I recently read the story where Abraham goes into Abimelech's kingdom. When they get there, Abraham is afraid that the men will hurt him on account of Sarah's beauty. Perhaps they would kill him to get her. So instead, he tells them that she is his sister - not a complete lie we find out, but still a strong deception. Turns out that Abimelech isn't that bad of a guy. When he finds out about the "mix-up," he quickly remedies the situation. God had it in control from the beginning.

Jump two generations later: Jacob is returning to Canaan to meet Esau again. But Esau is coming to meet him with 400 men. Jacob makes all kinds of crazy plans to ensure his survival, but in the end, Esau bears no great ill will against Jacob. God had it in control from the beginning.

What stuck out to me in both of these stories was the theme of fear. Both Abraham and Jacob were afraid of what was waiting for them at their destinations. For Abraham, it was unjust treatment because of lust for his wife; for Jacob, it was justified anger for the cheat he was. In both stories, we find out that the fear was almost unjustified. The God that protected them occasions past continued to do so. In fact, he would have an easier time of it if these men had trusted him a little more. Instead he has to send prophetic dreams or literally wrestle with these guys to make their paths straight.

It caused me to reflect about what I'm afraid of. Certainly the future is uncertain, but am I afraid of it? Is it the uncertainty that I fear, or is it something deeper? A fear of failure? A fear of the opinions of others? A fear of living the kind of life I never wanted to live?

Just some thoughts that help me fill my word count for the day.

Words Seldom Said, Ep. 1.

I was thinking the other day about words in Christianity that are super important but rarely talked about - especially in churches. For instance,

• Covenant - The entirety of the Old Testament is grounded in the idea that our God is a covenant keeping God. He chose Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as his people, making covenants with them to secure their relationship. It is his covenant that kept him from completely wiping out Israel many times. It is his covenant that eventually provided for the coming of Jesus to bring his people to him permanently.
  

• Context - One of the first words I learned in my Bible classes was context. Without an understanding of the historical and literary context of scripture, we'll never be able to responsibly interpret it.

That's all I had when I originally wrote this a few weeks ago. As I think of more, I'll post them.

Anyone have any others?

Christian Culture != Following Jesus.

Going to a Christian university is a unique experience. Never before have I been so fully immersed in the Christian Protestant subculture. Like any subculture, it comes with its own rules and expectations, taboos and holidays, media and attitudes about that media.

For example, as a 20something year old college student, here are a smattering of beliefs that are (sort of) expected of me:

• I must read my Bible every day, at least a chapter. If I read more, I am more spiritual.
• Pray every day, usually in the morning.
  
• I should probably go into ministry. Full time would be preferable.
• Play the guitar.
• Talk about God a lot. Relate everything I experience to God. Tell everyone I know what I experienced and how it relates to God.
  
• More recently, I must strive to "greenify" my life (after all, God is green), listen to high quality, not-so-obviously-Christian music, and study the traditions of other denominations to gain insight into my own.
  

These are some of the more obvious ones, at least. I'm sure you can think of more, whether you belong to this particular subculture or not.

The question, of course, is where do these expectations come from? Do I have to read my Bible to be a follower of Jesus? Do I have to subscribe to the philosophy that God is Green? If I don't do these things, am I a terrible Christian?

I think that oftentimes in the church, we confuse conforming to these expectations with following Jesus. We think that by learning to play guitar, by listening to the right music, by using the right words at the right time, we can grow closer to God.

But God didn't create me to conform to the culture of the church (contrary to what my IDS 200 professor thought...). He didn't necessarily create me to be the worship leader. He didn't create me to listen to trendy Christian bands and take care of the earth and be an advocate for every cause ever.

He created me to follow Jesus. He created me to follow Jesus.

It's a freeing thought to realize that he did not create me to be the pinnacle of Christian culture. He created me to be me. I'm supposed to be an agent of change, a lover of people, a creative person, and the scores of other things that I feel called to be.

But I am not called to be the trendy pastor with thick rimmed glasses. I am called to follow Jesus. Not the new trendy worship leader. Not the new trendy cause. Not the new trendy band or lingo or interpretation of Scripture. Jesus.

I want to be the guy that is outside of Christian culture, but totally into Jesus. I want to follow him in and out of it as he leads, but I do not want to keep him (or me) trapped in the entirely cultural and temporary expectations of our modern Christendom.

(P.S. About the title... In programming languages, an exclamation point means "the opposite of," therefore it reads "Christian Culture does not equal following Jesus." The end.)

TheKempest.

I've written about my name before, but I was thinking about it some more tonight (as I was laying in bed, unable to sleep. Again.).

It all started last week when I (finally) got my Xbox 360 hooked up to Xbox Live, their internet service. On the console, you can choose a Gamertag. I chose TheKemp. The idea is that you then connect to Xbox Live and you can use the same name. Of course, when I chose TheKemp, I thought, "No one else in the world is named Kemp. There's no way this one will be taken."

It was.

Microsoft would not let me be "TheKemp" because there already was a "TheKemp" out there somewhere.

So I had to one up this "TheKemp." I would not allow him (or her. Who knows?) to take my name! My new Gamertag? TheKempest. I am much more Kemp than any other Kemp in the world. (Unfortunately, it looks like I'm trying to wordplay both my name and "tempest" like some middle schooler who acts like he's really good at Halo but really is quite mediocre.)

Which got me thinking: what does that mean? What does it mean to be more Kemp than anyone else in the world? Do I associate certain qualities as being Kemp and certain qualities as being unKemp (or unkempt. ha.)?

I know that my name does mean a lot to me. I'm glad that I can't easily find any other person on Facebook with the name of Kemp. I'm glad that when I meet people, I am the only way they can define the word. They have never known a Kemp before me and chances are that they will never know a Kemp after me. My self will never be separated from the word "Kemp" by other Kemps out there as the expecations of Michaels and Johns are.

(Side notes: I just wrote my name more than I ever have in my life. What a weird name! An M and a P right next to each other? Who decided to name their child that? What the heck...)

All this slightly disassociated narcissistic talk to come down to this point: God has a name. In Exodus 3, Moses is sent on a mission by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses falters several times in the conversation, but eventually asks, "Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them?"

In the religions of the ancient near east, knowing a name gave you power over that person or force. Knowing my name gives you some power over me even still. At work, I freak out all the time when people pick my name off my name tag. I am immediately more friendly (mostly because I'm not sure if I really do know them or not). When people shout your name from across a crowded room, no matter how likely it is that there are others that share your name, you turn in that direction. Moses is sort of asking for that kind of power, only much more intense.

And the Creator of the Universe, Elohim, responds: "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"

God's name is I Am. His very name speaks of existence. Pure, unadulterated, independent, noncontingent existence.

There is none of Descartes' famous, "I think..." before it. He just is.

Two thoughts out of this (both more or less half baked):
1. When we say "I am," are we using the Lord's name in vain? Are we willing ourselves into existence, as if that were possible? Are we, through the very nature of our own language, calling God from across the room every time we say something about ourselves? Does God turn his head attentively only to find out we were talking to the other "I Am" in the room? (P.S. There is no other I Am.)

2. (This one's even less baked...) Does our existence cry the name of God? If he is existence and being, then we, through our contingent being constantly call attention back to the one without whom we would not exist. Through this (obnoxiously deep, convoluted, and) philosophical lens, it makes sense that the purpose of human life is to glorify God. We are, after all, merely borrowing from his existence...

3. (I know I said two, but then I reread the top and this point has to be made at least a little...) What attributes are distinctly God's? As I was reflecting on what made me the "Kempest" of all the Kemps, what makes I AM the most I AMest of all the I ams?

This question is, of course, answereable (at least a little) through a good theology book, but it does merit more thought.

Later.

P.S. Fun idea to try with your friends! Take the ideas from my reflection on my name earlier in this entry and think about how God feels in the same situation. Good times.

Why I'm not all about player agency.

I have a problem.

I want to be a video game designer, but I don't always agree with how the industry and culture is moving, behaving, and expecting, especially when it comes to story and narrative design.

You see, 0ne of the fancy shmancy terms tossed around by game designers from time to time is "player agency." It is the idea that the player is in control of the story. Games like Oblivion or Grand Theft Auto put quite a lot of agency into the hands of the player - their stories are mostly optional, discovered through what missions the player chooses and how they complete them. These games take pride in the agency of the player - the ability for the player to determine the course of the story. These games stand in stark contrast to many role playing games like the Final Fantasy series, where the story unfolds in a linear fashion and the player makes limited decisions that don't really affect the outcome of the characters' actions.

Popular opinion in the video game industry is to put more and more power in the hands of the players - let them make their own stories. In this camp, the role of the designer is to create an interesting world and starting conditions for the player's own creative expression. The player is free to participate in the telling of the story by telling it how they want it told. They determine protagonist, antagonist, conflict, desire, obstacle - everything. Through this, players can compare notes (stories) revolving around the question, "What did you do?" or "How did you get past that boss?"

But are players ever going to really interact with the game in a meaningful way? Will they be changed by the stories they tell in the same way that an audience is changed in other media?

I don't think so. I tend to think that players, when left to their own devices, are highly unlikely to tell a story of nuance, meaning, and thematic significance, no matter the tools they are given.

So why the obsession with player agency? Why do we buck so much the hand of a good designer/storyteller?

More personally, why am I so comfortable with it? My favorite games are ones in which I am a participant in a larger story - games where I assume the role of a character, rather than creating one myself. These games, through their gameplay (to a small extent) and their story, create meaning, thought, and, ultimately, change in how I view the world. (Drop everything you're doing and play Final Fantasy Tactics all the way through - you'll understand what I mean.)

Perhaps it all comes down to theology.

I think a large part of my struggle is that I have little problem trusting someone else to tell my story. I submit myself daily to the story that God is telling, to following his son with my life, and to the wonderful power of his themes and signficance. I have no problem believing that someone behind the scenes knows more than I do and has something to teach me.

Maybe running to player agency is really just a small part of the rebellion coming out in a new way - people trying to control their own lives and tell their own stories, and meaning nothing in the process.

Now before anyone reads this and gets all upitty about some judgmental Christian banter and blah-blah-blah, I'm not writing this to condemn the idea of player agency or to suggest that those who hold to that narrative theory are rebels, sinners, and godless fools. Rather, I write it to defend my own instinct toward authorial control.

If video games can be (and are) a powerful and somewhat accurate metaphor for life, then just as I believe there is a Designer of the world who arranges things for meaning and purpose for our good, so too I believe a human designer can inject some of that meaning and purpose for the good of his characters and players. Just as we as humans find life most fulfilling while following Jesus, I think it can be apt that players will find a well designed game most fulfilling when they follow the plan (or story or whatever) of the designer.

As with so many of my ideas, I'm not sure if everything came through effectively, so I'll summarize as simply as I can: If life has a designer who has a plan that we should follow, why shouldn't video games?

(Inspiration for this post brought to you by The Brainy Gamer. Read the comments and follow links. There's good times in there.)

What if it's true?

Here's something else I've been thinking about yesterday and today. What if it's true?

What if what we believe is true? Jesus really was God in the flesh. We really are alienated from God because of sin. Jesus' death changed our broken state, but we are still being changed. The Devil really exists. We're supposed to sacrifice for our wives and wives are to submit to their husbands (Oo..... controversy...). The meek will inherit the earth. Brother will be divided from brother.

Sometimes I believe things intellectually, but forget that it's really true. That it really does change the way I see the world and how I act in it.

God is really heavy.

So I'm reading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. It's been on my reading list for a full year and I've finally gotten to it. It's like Rob Bell's basic theology book.

Here's a thought that's getting to me.

In Movement (chapter) 3, he talks a bit about missions. So often, when we talk about missions, we say that we are "bringing Jesus to" China or Africa or Chicago or the film industry.

But Bell reminds his readers that God is, in fact, everywhere. There is no place that he is not present. It is the awareness of his presence that changes from place to place and person to person.

The duty of the missionary then, is not to force Jesus onto a people, but to show them where he is already active and moving. What are the true things that are happening in the place? Are people laughing? Are there crops growing? Is there, in a word, goodness? If so, then God is there. He must merely be seen more clearly. He must be named. Just as Paul does at the Areopagus (a way cooler name than Mars Hill, in my opinion...), we can point to things already around us (like poets, philosophers, prophets) and say that they have it somewhat right. But there is a higher reality. It all comes from the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob - the God who revealed himself through Jesus the Messiah and the Bible.

So, Bell suggests, a missionary is perhaps better called a tour guide - one who can see God in the everyday. Someone who can see the Lord working in the most unlikely places.

In my own life, I am finally at a place where I am not surrounded by Christians - my job. It's not as hostile of an environment as I expect in the game industry, but I do not see people coming to work with their Bibles... How do I show them Jesus? How do I make disciples?

The suggestion that our job as "missionaries" (or evangelists or Jesus-networkers [I just made that one up]) is merely to see God already at work, point to it, and call it out appeals to me.

But it is a challenge. A change in how I look at the world. Sadly, even as a believer, I don't have the eyes to see God's movement in any but the most obvious and powerful places.

But Rob Bell might be right. If we see ourselves carrying God from one place (Cornerstone/my life/my church) to another (my job/my career/the streets/the bar down the road), we will undoubtably get exhausted.

God is really heavy.

A bit of Theology.

So In small group last night we had a chat about how we know truth, what is subjectivity, and other such things. We talked about how we can see God and understand truth as humans. Caleb Hugo tossed out the parable of the blind men and the elephant (see the article) and Rob sent out a response today in the form of a link here. I figured I'd post my essay length response here, just for the hecks of it.

I definitely agree with the idea that this parable cannot apply to multiple religions (as a peer of mine asserted in middle school). However, my view is that there are aspects of God which we cannot know for certain 100% of the time, for example, Calvinism and Armenism (sp?). Each side has very strong scriptural and philosophical support and when asked which camp is right, I reply both.

Our God is a god filled with paradoxes to human understanding. There are many things about him that we can understand, but there are also many things that we cannot understand. There are times when it is apparent that the Kingdom is here, that the world is getting better as redemption is spreading. Other times, the world just seems to be getting worse and worse until Christ’s return. Yet somehow, it is both of these.

It is exactly because we don’t know all the hows and whys of God that I think we must approach many conversations with humility, especially with other believers. We can never assume we know everything about our God.

Now, when having conversations with non-believers, this parable holds false. Our God has revealed himself pretty clearly and we can be confident of our knowledge of the truth. However, I find that this confidence can easily lead to blind ignorance and close-mindedness toward others. It can make us hostile to the opinions and beliefs of others and unwilling to listen to the whys of their beliefs and reason. Therefore, in these conversations, while still understanding that I know the God-revealed truth of Scripture, I ask myself, “What if they’re not wrong?” I find that this helps me toward finding the kernels of truth in what they believe and helps me to establish common ground by which I can introduce them to Jesus in a way in which they will understand. This does not, however, persuade me or silence me to the fact that they have not encountered Truth in Jesus.

All this to say that our conversations with non-believers must be filled with gentleness and emotional hospitality, showing them the humility that should come with our belief of an infinite God.