Hands and feets are all in line.

It's raining, it's pouring, I wish I could have been snoring. But I had to be in chapel.

Shit.

It was truly a blessing to have Bush's solid quarter present in chapel today. I hope the presence of their combined holiness enriched your experience as much as it did mine. [And we pretend church isn't about politics. . . .]

Honestly, I enjoyed having all the pastors present because seeing them all dressed up reminded me of all the tithe money spent buying the clothes on their backs. We're paying for their Lexuses, Armani suits, and gated-community homes, you know. Have you enjoyed their services enough to warrant an extra tip on the nightstand?

Another point of amusement came when His Holiness was guiding us through prayer [At least it wasn't a three hour tour. That's got to count for something.] at the end of the service and said something akin to, "Thanks for all the pastors who are here. It's because of them that many of us are here." Yeah. Thanks pastors for holding our hands all the way through the SNU Gate and never telling us about the four or five years of condescension, censorship, character manipulation, circular-reasoning, and unhealthy co-dependence we were fated to experience as a result of your coersion. [Make sure you fill in those blanks on your sermon notes.]

We confessed our sins again today. Three cheers for forced guilt! Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

Mr. Whiteside did a better-than-average job leading the music today. Props also to Ms. Anonymous Freshman Pianist. The this-is-a-very-serious-service-and-you-can-tell-because-I'm-playing-this-very-emotive-music-on-my-acoustic-guitar-and-singing-breathy-harmonies-with-this-girl-who-is-playing-piano mood was made manifest.

I always find it odd when "worship songs" include lines such as, "cradled in his [Jesus'] arms." Is this really the relationship we want to have with the divine? To be helpless, screaming, crying, pissing, teat-suckling children who need Jesus to come rescue us from the Big Bad World? I should certainly hope not. And if that is the shape you want your metaphysical "marraige" to take, I must ask what you think Jesus is saving you from.

Question: where do you find the time and emotional energy to serve Jesus if your primary concern is that of walking the tightrope [that the Chuch created after Jesus died]? Can you really be a worthy follower of Jesus if you are always riddled with guilt and spending all your time and effort trying to make sure you haven't screwed the pooch in the last five minutes? More power to you, Rapunzel.

Look out! Cannibals!

Don't get me wrong, I am very glad Nazarenes aren't as ass-backward about their communion as the Catholics. I mean, I enjoy sucking on my Savior and swallowing some Jesus juice as much as the next guy, but those Catholics have a tendency to take things a little too far. . . .

Oh, and thanks, Michelson, for leaving the bullshit at the door and reminding those of us who had forgotten that there is nothing magical about the communion experience. Like the rest of our lives, the situation is deviod of meaning unless we infuse it with such. The eucharist can be a powerful symbol, but it does not possess that quality inherently.

Here's a hint.

I sat in the mezzanine today, and when everyone stood to get in line to receive communion I could not for the life of me help but think of a bunch of homeless people getting in line to receive their welfare checks. Or maybe lemmings, flocking blindly en masse toward a precipice. One of those two, I'm not sure which.

And what of those few students who chose to buck the trend and not partake of the elements? "Well, if you feel that you're not in the right place with God, then the best thing you could be doing is reflecting on your journey and not taking communion." Thanks Holiness. I'm sure the few students who simply don't agree with the practice of communion and have made considerate, thoughtful decisions about the subject appreciated your condescension and backhanded ridicule. That'll draw them into the fold for sure. [Can they expect the same treatment from the conversion classes you're peddling this semester?]

Here's a thought: from now on you should offer wine with communion, in addition to grape juice. I'll put my $5 in and bet that even the filthiest heathens would take communion then. [Hi, I'll have a tall double holiness blood with an extra shot of pious, and two home-baked body wafers, please."

Be strong; only one more day until fall break. What? We have to go to chapel tomorrow too?

Shit.

"Keep near me and you will be safe."

Daedalus

You are a sad, strange, little man. And you have my pity.

It's Wednesday. How do I know? Well, the birds are singing, the sky is clear, the grass is soft, and I was forced to sit inside a poorly-lit, musty room for an hour with the lot of you while someone droned on and on and on and on. . . .This obviously shows that SNU doesn't care about the tree-huggers.

"This is gonna be a good chapel." [And how, may I ask, would you know? Are you using your Jedi mind powers again? If the past is any indication of what is to come, your claim, good sir, is quite unfounded.]

Get ready, get set, go! *This is the part where we're listening to a better-than-average band play some better-than-average gospel music. . . .* Wait! What's happening? We're watching a lame video about the history of the Nazarene church? What the hell? Oh, and now we're going to talk about the video?! *This is the part where no one is listening to His Holiness and everyone really just wishes he would shut the hell up so that the band could play some more.* [And since when did being Nazarene matter? I thought Christians were all supposed to be one big happy family in Jesus!] What's this? Brad is not on stage and someone is still spouting nonsense? *This is the part where the band starts to play again and the singer gets back to what she's good at.* And all was right in the world.

I am completely shocked by the music this week: two full days where worship didn't suck the proverbial 'big one.' Amazing.

Here's a tip for whoever is teaching the ethos group for non-Christians: put all those sinners on a strict diet of gospel music. Mark my words, if anything is ever going to be successful as a ministry tool, it's going to be gospel music.

"Jason is going to speak now. Pay attention, because he's a very smart guy. But you really have to be listening to catch it. And he's weird. And he has a quirky sense of humor. And he has a new haircut. And he's dressed like a fifteen year old trying to negotiate his identity. And he makes pop culture references that I don't get. And he has a bucket of dirt on stage. . . ."

Thanks Brad. I'm sure Jason was very flattered.

Today, if you'll remember, the good reverend Hubbert attempted to make the point that God can take all of the "dirt" from your past and make something beautiful out of it. A good lesson, to be sure, but he didn't quite get all the way from here to there.

The scripture employed to support his thesis was from the good book of Genesis, chapter two, verse seven. "Then the Lord God formed the man from the dirt of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man's nostrils, and the man became a living person." Jason was correct to note the controversial nature of this text, as it is caught up in the debate [that the Church won't let die] between creationism and evolution. But oddly enough, even after making this aside, the Good Reverend proceeded to reference the text as though it were literal. Or maybe he just assumed that it had somehting to "say" to us, around 4000 years in the future. [Yeah, right. . . .] Unfortunately, the use of this text caused the Good Reverend to commit the fallacy of the high-school English teacher.

High-school English teachers are notorious for two things. First, they wear denim vests with kittens embroidered on them. Second, they have their students read books by Joseph Conrad and then write exegetical papers that extract and examine every possible shred of symbolism in the book. This would all be fine, except that The Heart of Darkness contains no symbolism. Such was the problem the Good Reverend encountered, unknowingly, today.

Genesis 2:7 served, at the time of its writing, to explain to unscientific, bronze-age sheep-herders how humans came into existence. These people did not have a scientific understanding of the natural world, thus, this explanation is necessarily little more than myth and unsubstantiated speculation. [Unless, of course, you are of the opinion that there should be a constitutional amendment restricting marriage to heterosexual couples. If that's the case then you might actually think that Genesis 1 and 2 are historical documents.] Also, people of this time and geographical location were predominantly poly-theistic and and had little or no understanding of human psychology. This makes it very unlikely that the author of Genesis 2:7 meant for the word "dirt" to be used as a metaphor to represent all of our past "sin." I'm pretty sure they just meant for "dirt" to mean dirt.

That said, the Good Reverend's trick of redefining "dirt" and using it in the metaphorical sense so that our past sins could conveniently be equated with the dirt that unknowing herdsmen suspected The Almighty of "creating" glittering, children's playthings from [props courtesy of Mattel], doesn't really work to support his argument.

Please notice that I am not saying that God does not want to, or cannot, make a beautiful Barbie doll out of the miserable, contemptible wretch that you were/are/will be. All I'm saying is that Jason's argument for that position was without merit. Oh well, maybe next semester he'll get it right.

"And God will come down and put his lips on your lips. . . ."

Aww yeah, God. That's it. You know how I like it.

"Keep near me and you will be safe."

Daedalus