brett’s morning blend (24aug10)

Missio Dei: A Journal of Missional Theology and Praxis

The first issue of Missio Dei is out, and you can download it free.  I honestly don’t know a great deal about the magazine, as the combination of my poor Tanzanian internet and my Mac have left me unable to download and see the first issue.  I really only know two things:

1. that it’s primarily edited and published by a bunch of Church of Christ guys (I think most of them went to Harding University).
2. and that two of my favorite missions fellows have written articles for this first issue — Mark Love and Gailyn Van Rheenen.

The Illustrated Guide to a Ph.D.

Every fall, Matt Might ”explain[s] to a fresh batch of Ph.D. students what a Ph.D. is.

It’s hard to describe it in words.

So, [he] use[s] pictures.

[See this link] for the illustrated guide to a Ph.D.”

7 Reasons to Switch to the Dvorak Keyboard Layout

All you guys and gals still using the QWERTY keyboard are so far behind the times.  If you were really serious about typing quickly, correctly, and with the least health problems possible, you’d switch to the Dvorak keyboard.  And here are seven great reasons to do so.  Oh, and while the author doesn’t report such, using the Dvorak keyboard also makes you run faster, jump higher, win your fantasy football league, and be able to catch and ride flying dinosaurs.

Fake Tennis Shoes from China

When I lived in China, I was always seeing knock-off clothing items for cheap.  But sometimes I just couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.  One rumor had it that some of the stuff was real, yet stolen.  Another reasonable idea was that the guys in North Face and Puma factories were working illegal overtime, making the same jackets and shoes with the same materials, but off the books.  Then there was always the most probable case — these were simply fakes made in factories where all they make is fakes.

This New York Times article answers a lot of these questions.  And I’ve got a couple of pairs of Puma kicks for sale really cheap if anybody’s interested….

dear diary — wednesday, august 11

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* This post is the fourth (and last) in a “dear diary” series from Luke 1.  The first post is here.

** The first “dear diary” series is here.

Wednesday, August 11 — 6:00 am

Dear Diary,

I’ve just completed a study of Luke 1 that particularly focused on Zechariah and the birth of John the Baptist.  I’ve never really studied about Zechariah before, always being more interested in both his son and his distant cousin-in-law, Jesus.  But I’ve enjoyed this study and learned a lot.

Central Theme

It’s pleasing to God when we believe him, trust him, and are obedient to him. If Zechariah’s bout with, and recovery from, being deaf and dumb are representative of what God expects from us, trust and obedience necessarily follow belief.  Zechariah was given a promise by God, and questioned it.  As a result, he was not allowed to continue living life as it is best lived.  His lack of hearing and inability to speak are a dulling of the senses which certainly represent a failure to live life as God intends life to be.

I wonder, though, if being stricken deaf and dumb was less a punishment and more a fundamental truth. When we refuse to accept God’s promises for us, when we fail to put our trust in him, when our most resolute convictions are grounded in earthly logic and intellect, it is impossible for us to experience true and abundant life. I’m just not sure Gabriel’s intention was to penalize Zechariah for having little faith.  Rather, Zechariah’s condition was consistent with putting one’s confidence in human reason.  It was a form of discipline for sure, in that it pointed to an offense and encouraged correction.  But perhaps no more so than the effects of putting our trust in money, or giving all of our love to a spouse.

Zechariah’s affliction was lifted not at the moment he believed Gabriel’s words, for surely that moment was when Elizabeth first started experiencing morning sickness, or when Zechariah saw the positive sign on a urine-soaked stick, or when Elizabeth’s tummy finally started to pudge.  I’m convinced belief came early in the pregnancy, and most certainly before John was circumcised at eight days old. But Zechariah’s afflictions weren’t removed when he believed; no, he regained his voice and hearing only when his belief acted out in obedience.

I’m convinced we’ve done Christianity a great disservice by attempting to separate belief and obedience. We want to say we’re saved by grace through faith, and faith alone.  And we equate faith with belief.  We say works are a sign of true faith; I say they are a part of true faith.  I will be judged by my position in Christ and my deeds in the body.  The two cannot be separated.  There is no such thing as possessing a saving faith in God that does not manifest itself in obedience. Obedience to Christ is not merely a product of faith; it is a crucial element of it.

I’m afraid there are a whole lot of us (Christians) who are:

1. living impaired lives, strictly because we lack faith in God. We fail to trust in God, and so, we forfeit the good and abundant life.  Our senses are dulled, and we experience life in black and white, or without sound.
2. relying on a belief in the existence of God, the fact that Jesus is the son of God, or (even worse) a specific set of church doctrines to save us. We reject obedience, because we’re unable to save ourselves and don’t want a works-based salvation.  But what we have, then, is an acknowledgment that God is God with no buy-in — as if assenting to the existence of God is equal to giving him my life and seeking to become more like him.

Other Thoughts

• Zechariah and Elizabeth were “upright” and observed God’s commandments “blamelessly.”  Yet Zechariah lacked a certain trust in God.  It may be possible to follow a set of rules without placing my life in God’s hands… for a time.  But eventually my incomplete faith will surface.
• Zechariah had been praying for a child, even though he was old and his wife was barren.  We should pray with expectation and not be surprised by the answers God grants.
• John’s task on earth was to prepare his people for the coming of Jesus the Messiah.  He was to do this by pointing them to repentance and obedience.  Might there be an equivalent “preparation” today?  I would suggest the Holy Spirit (by whom John was filled from his birth) plays that role today.  Perhaps in evangelism we should focus on those who have been rightly prepared by the Spirit?
• Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit somehow in connection with John leaping for joy  (in her womb) at Jesus’ presence.  Is the Holy Spirit, or at least his working, contagious?  Can I pass him on to those nearby, or are they more likely to be prompted by him if spending time with me?
• Zechariah and Elizabeth were obedient to God in naming their son John, despite the objections of their family.  I should set my heart and desires on what God requires of me, and not be distracted or discouraged by those around me.
• The proper response to God’s healing in my life, or even to the very ability to enjoy life, is praise.  And a thankful heart is prompted by the Spirit of God in me.

Your thoughts?

dear diary — 4th day of iyyar

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* This post is the third in a “dear diary” series from Luke 1-2.  The first post is here.

** The first “dear diary” series is here.

4th Day of Iyyar, 4:30 pm

Dear Diary,

I’m writing earlier in the day than I usually do, because Elizabeth’s family is in town, and we’re all going out to dinner tonight.  There’s this new all-you-can-eat restaurant that just opened here in town.  It’s called Lemberger’s, and they’re supposed to have a pretty amazing gefilte fish. I hear you sit at your table, and they throw rolls to you.  Oh, and they dump your side dishes right onto the table — what  a novel concept.  I bet this place is gonna’ be huge.

So, yeah… we’re going out to dinner tonight.  This’ll be John’s first trip out of the house; I hope he’ll sleep through the whole meal — I don’t want to be that family whose kid cries in a nice restaurant.  You know, the same family who leaves behind a huge mess of honey and locusts on and under the table, spilled drinks, and smashed crayon bits everywhere in the booth.  And then amidst that horrendous and mass destruction, this family leaves their offering of a little bitty, tiny tip.  I’ve heard that Jewish families eating after synagogue are the worst tippers.  That’s sad.  I wish some other religious group were known for that instead of us.*

I said this would be John’s first trip out, but that’s not true.  We took him to the temple for his circumcision.  So let’s just say this’ll be his first trip out as a full-fledged Jewish man.  And hopefully the first trip that doesn’t end with John screaming like an angry leviathan while his mom threatens to become a Gentile if we have another son.  It’s hard to watch a baby in pain, you know.

And he wasn’t the only one in pain that day.  There I was celebrating the circumcision of my son.  A son who was born way too late in mine and his mother’s life for this to be “natural” and “normal.”  A son who was promised me by God through Gabriel, the angel.  A son who is apparently never going to drink wine and is instead already filled with the Holy Spirit.  A son whose responsibility it is to prepare a people for the Lord himself.  There was so much to be thankful for.  The blessings of God had really been poured out on me.

But I was still deaf and mute.  I wasn’t sure if I’d be punished forever for my questioning of Gabriel or what.  He had told me I’d not be able to talk until the day “all this happened.”  That was right after telling me about how I’d have a son.  So I fully expected the curse to be lifted on the day John was born.  But it wasn’t.  So there we were at the circumcision, family and friends all around, an 8-day old son, and I still couldn’t hear or speak.

That’s when the argument started.  They were all planning to name him Zechariah, after me.  Why they’d want to name him after a guy who’d apparently shown so little faith in God, I’m not sure.  But that was their plan.  Lizzie and I had talked (ie. written back and forth) about it a lot, though — about how the angel said his name would be John.  So she refused Zechariah and pushed for John.  But they wouldn’t listen to her.  You know… women’s rights just aren’t what they should be in this part of the world.  Females can’t drive, vote, go to school, or work in corporate management, no matter how many bras they burn.

Of course I didn’t know all this was happening.  I could tell there was an argument, but not really what it was about.  It seems the biggest fuss was that there’s no one in our family named John.  [...which is odd if you think about it -- not a single "John" in all our family?  I mean it's not like we're talking about Tsidhqiyah, Tovi, or Tab.*  John.  It's common.]  Finally, they asked me what I thought — and I wasn’t about to lose my vision or my sense of taste (can you imagine a trip to Lemberger’s without the ability to savor the food?).  So I very definitively wrote, “His name is John.”  To me, there wasn’t a question about it.  John was already the kid’s name; we’d just not yet filed the papers.

It was at that very moment that I received back my hearing and speech.  Though, to be honest, I didn’t realize I had the hearing back for quite some time — I was so busy praising God for the miracles he’d performed, and for his faithfulness.  The Holy Spirit filled me, and I wrote a song right there off the top of my head.  It was pretty incredible.  God is so amazing.

Well, it’s off to Lemberger’s, home of the throwed rolls.  Good night, Diary.

* Just give it some time, Zechariah — about 2000 years to be exact.  Christians in North America have got your back..

** Arguably one of the top 5 drinks every invented, by the way.

dear diary — 3rd day of iyyar

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* This post is the second in a “dear diary” series from Luke 1-2.  The first post is here.

** The first “dear diary” series is here.

3rd day of Iyyar, 8:30 pm

Dear Diary,

There are a few things that have been on my mind, and I need to get ‘em down on paper before I forget.  Disjointed I’m sure, but here goes:

• So I walk into the temple to burn incense — we’re talking a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, in a real holy place.  Everybody’s all quiet and praying outside; it’s a really solemn occasion.  I remember how quiet it was because I was thinking about doing that thing on the other side of the altar of incense — you know, the thing where I make it look like I’m walking down steps into a basement or something?  Yeah, I was thinking about whether or not I should do it (just in case anyone was peeking), and that’s when I saw him.  Gabriel — only I didn’t know his name at the time — the angel.  I just about peed my robe and tunic.  And that’s when he says… get this, he says, “Don’t be afraid.”  Uhm… yeah.  Okay.  Earth to Jerusalem… hello, we have a problem.  And Gabriel, when you decide you’d like to join us in the real world, let us know.  We’ll call you a flying taxi cab.  I’m staring at an angel in the flesh — and he says, “Don’t be afraid.” **rolling eyes**
• Alright, so everyone knows the story now.  Gabriel tells me all about how there’s gonna’ be a son born to Lizzie and he’s gonna’ be like Elijah, full of the Spirit and preparing the way for the Lord.  So, my wife being what they call in Latin a “highnumerogenarian,” I says (and I quote), “How can I be sure of this?  I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.”  That’s when Gabriel finally introduces himself.  Yep, we exchange names just before he tells me he’s going to take away my ability to speak.  Says I didn’t believe him.  But I was just asking for clarification.  And besides that, he took away my hearing without even telling me he was going to; he said I’d be mute — not a word about deaf.  Though I will concede that it’s at least possible he told me he’d remove my hearing, but only after it was already gone.  That’s real fair.
• Oh, and remember how Gabriel told me not to be afraid?  Yeah, exactly.  ”There’s nothing to be afraid of… I only have the power to speak on behalf of the living God.  Well, that and the ability to take away all your senses.”  You better believe I’m going to make water in my tunic the next angel I see. **not joking**
• So here’s my beef (though all is well and I am a blessed man today) and really why I’m writing:  I was talking to Lizzie’s cousin, Mary, yesterday, and she says she did nearly the same thing.  Gabriel (same guy) went through almost the same spiel with her: “Don’t be afraid… yada yada… you’re going to have a son, and so on.”  Then she said it.  Almost the same words as me (minus the virgin bit).  ”How will this be, since I am a virgin?”  Boom.  There it is.  Doubt, questioning, disbelief.  But you know what Mary got for it?  Nada, zilch, zippo.  Gabriel — get this — answered her question; he explained to her how it would happen.  She wasn’t struck blind, deaf, or dumb.  She gained a lot of weight, but that had nothing to do with angels or curses.  [Well, maybe the curse on Adam and Eve in the very beginning...]
• Last thing:  Whose idea was it to call people who can’t speak “dumb?”  That just doesn’t seem fair.  I much prefer the word “mute,” and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.  There’s probably a whole slew of people with me on this.  I suppose you could call us the… silent majority?

That’s all I’ve got tonight, Diary.  Goodnight.

dear diary — 2nd day of iyyar

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2nd day of Iyyar, 9:00 pm

Dear Diary,

Despite my recent absence, I’ve decided to keep writing in you — even though I’ve got my voice back.  That whole miracle thing (both the hearing, talking bit AND the birth of my son) was my last entry a few weeks ago, and I realize I haven’t written much since then.  You know how it is with a newborn kid, especially when you’re my age.  To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever write in this journal again (hadn’t planned on it), but I’ve finally had some time to process the last nine months or so, and I have some things to say.  I’m gonna’ stick with this writing thing, at least for a while.

I started the diary because I had so many feelings and, without a voice, no way in which to express them.  It all began that day I was chosen to go into the temple and burn incense.  After the whole supernatural angel experience (complete with discipline from God), everyone was wanting to know what had happened.  I kept making signs to them — and finally got across that I’d seen some kind of vision — but they never really understood what actually happened in there.  So I later wrote about it.

[You know, someone should invent a language that deaf and mute people can use to interact with one another and with others.  They could use their hands, and every motion could represent a different word.  Oh, and we could make signs for the letters of the alphabet, too.  We could even have big performances in which groups do a sort of "sign language" choreography to the spectacular stylings of our synagogue music.  Yeah, that would be awesome.  Jewish kids everywhere could do it -- it would be the newest and best proselytizing tool around.  It might even replace drama teams.  I've gotta' remember to tell the youth minister about this.]

Okay, so back to what I was saying.  I remember the first time I wrote down anything at all.  It was a couple of days after the angel struck me, and I was exhausted from waving my hands in the air trying to explain how I felt (and from acting like a chicken laying an egg just to get a decent breakfast).  The phone rang* that day while Elizabeth was at the market, and I grabbed a piece of papyrus and scribbled down a message for her about her cousin, Mary, who was finally engaged to long-time boyfriend, Joseph.  Yeah, we’d all been waiting on Joe to step up and ask.  We were beginning to wonder if he might have been put off by the bride-price Heli was asking for.  12 cows is a lot for a carpenter.  Anyway, that was the first time I bothered writing something down.  Later that day I used the same sheet of papyrus to give my account of the angel in the temple.  I was hooked.

I could finally express my feelings again.  And better yet, I could go back and edit my words to make sure my meaning was clear.  In many ways, writing is a better way for me to communicate what I really want to say.  It’s also helped our marriage a lot — it’s nearly impossible to snap back a rude answer using a feather and dye made from plants.

So that was the day I started this whole journal thing.  I’ve even thought about posting some comments each morning out on our front gate.  That way people could read what I was up to that day — and (if I left the quill and ink) even leave comments at the bottom of the page.  I could complain about the world and pretend the things I have to say are really important.  Or I could just leave it at telling people what I did that day in hopes that they care.

Oh, I know!  **light bulb**  If I talk about God, I could call it a ministry.  I just wish there were some way to put really nice portraits of our family up for everyone to see.  The grandparents are always wanting more pictures of little John.  Anyway, I’m gonna’ get to work on that.  Now what will I call it… a gate journal, a news diary, a bulletin log… — no, those names are all so long.  I need something short and catchy.  **perplexed**

Well, more on all this tomorrow.  Good night, diary.

*Poor editing.  And a big thanks to Zee for pointing this out.  Zechariah could not have heard, or spoken on, a phone.

dear diary — friday, july 16

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This post is the last in a “dear diary” series from Matthew 20.  The first three:

dear diary — 7th day of nisan

dear diary — 9th day of nisan

dear diary — 10th day of nisan

Friday, July 16 — 6:00 am

Dear Diary,

I’ve completed my study of Matthew 20:1-28.  I journaled through this portion of the chapter as if I were James, the son of Zebedee.  I enjoyed a great deal creatively working through the text — but more importantly I’ve learned a lot.  The text looks like this in form:

1. Matthew 20:1-16 — The Parable of the “Unfair” Vineyard Wages
2. Matthew 20:17-19 — Jesus Predicts His Death
3. Matthew 20:20-28 — Salome Acts Like the Parent in a Parent-Teacher Conference

I’m convinced Matthew ordered the events as he did, not necessarily because they happened so close together and in this exact order, but because he uses Jesus’ prediction of his own death as commentary on the stories resting on either side of it.  The vineyard parable makes clear that the last will be first, and the request of the brothers Zebedee (by their mother) gives Jesus the opportunity to teach on becoming great through servanthood.  Between these two stories, Matthew places Jesus’ perfect example of making himself servant, slave, and last of all.  Here’s what I’ve learned:

The Parable of the “Unfair” Vineyard Wages

• God seeks and draws workers to him.  It is not our responsibility to “apply.”
• God is honest and keeps his word.
• God is extremely gracious and gives us more than we deserve.
• Salvation is a gift that none of us have earned, and so, it is mercy and grace to each one of us, no matter our prior condition and situation.

Salome Acts Like a Parent in a Parent-Teacher Conference

• Human nature seeks a high position.
• Truly gaining a high position requires sacrifice of self.  This is in direct conflict with our nature.
• We are called not to exercise authority, but to serve others.

Jesus Lowers Himself in This Text

• I think Jesus is the foreman in the vineyard story.  He pays the workers as the vineyard owner desires.  He is humbling himself to serve the Father.
• Jesus speaks of the cup of sacrifice he will drink in the story with James and John.
• Jesus again demonstrates his submission to the Father when he explains that the seats  on either side of his thrown are not for him to give away.
• Jesus explains he came not to be served, but to serve.  His life is meant to be given for others.
• In vv. 17-19, Jesus explains how he will humble himself to be placed in the hands of the chief priests and teachers of the law.  Ironic that salvation will come to the world through a King tossing aside his authority in order to be killed by those religious officials who are seeking authority.  The juxtaposition of Jesus and the chief priests paints a beautiful picture of what to do and what not to do.
• In the end, Jesus will be raised to life. It’s interesting to me that Jesus tells his disciples the last will be first and the servants will be great.  And this one line is the only testament in this chapter to such occurring in his life:  ”On the third day he will be raised to life!”  But this one line is enough, as it’s forever changed our world.

My Thoughts

• I’m afraid too many of our religious leaders today seek authority, popularity, and greatness — yet are unwilling to be servants.  Oftentimes today, those most like Jesus are found cleaning up after events, stacking chairs, and teaching children’s classes — there’s no glory in those jobs.
• I live in a culture where it’s easy to serve others, because many Tanzanians are sitting around, waiting to be served.  I’m struggling to serve responsibly, though, so I don’t encourage others to depend on handouts — but, rather, show them love through my own humility.  I believe my service to others should prompt them to praise God (not me) and hopefully even to themselves serve others.
• I’ll be honest.  I want Christianity to be about doing what’s right merely because it’s right.  We would serve others, only because that’s what Jesus has done for us and it’s the right thing to do.  BUT, Jesus continually offers rewards for our service — the last becoming first, higher wages than we deserve, greatness, etc.  Jesus, in a way, plays on our selfish nature and our desire to obtain greatness.  So, to some extent, it’s less about not desiring a high position, and more about desiring the right kind of high position.
• We make fun of the apostles’ inability to understand Jesus’ words.  But how much worse is it that we understand the stories, but refuse to live by them?

Your thoughts?

dear diary — 10th day of nisan

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10th day of Nisan, 5:50 am

Dear Diary,

I’m back.  We had our meeting last night, and none of us really knew what to do with the becoming servants and slaves thing.  It just doesn’t make sense to us that to be a great leader, you first have to be a servant.  Maybe JC’s trying to say we need to learn the value of hard work?  My bigdaddy used to always say that.  But I think we fisherman already know the meaning and value of hard work.  Jesus thinks fishing’s easy, but that’s just because we got lucky and had a really good day that one time he came with us.  Of course he also wasn’t responsible for mending all Simon’s nets that got ruined that day.  And I bet he has no idea how much work it’d been if our boats had actually sank.  I mean fishing isn’t carpentry — we don’t sit in chairs, talking and whittling on wood all day.  It’s hard work.  **snorting and spitting**  [But Matthew... now that guy could probably learn a thing or two about hard work.]

As for the ransom and kidnapping stuff Jesus said, all 12 of us think it might have something to do with what Jesus said on our way to Jerusalem this trip.  I initially didn’t give it an entry in the diary for three reasons:

1. I had no idea what it meant.
2. It sounded kind of morbid, and I’d rather keep my diary cheery and happy.  Talk of death doesn’t sit well next to my sketches of cute, little kittens and rainbows.
3. While traveling, my diary stays locked and hidden in some old tunics on one of the donkeys; I don’t want the other 11 to know I keep a journal.  That would be soooooo embarrassing.  Especially if they found the pages where I practiced writing my name in cursive with Martha of Bethany’s last name.  [That girl really can cook.  And she doesn't mind staying in the kitchen all day long if it's needed.]  **warm feeling, hugging myself and thinking of food**

Anyway, Jesus said something about how he’ll be betrayed and the chief priests are going to condemn him and let the Gentiles torture and crucify him.  He said he’d be raised to live again on the third day.  We’re not sure how the kidnap and ransom bit plays in, but it sounds like all that might be part of the same parable.  Our best guess is Jesus has some kind of plan to get kidnapped by the teachers of the law and sold as a slave to the Gentiles, who will treat him poorly in the beginning, but will later allow him to advance in their government?  We think the crucifixion bit probably is representative of something…  and maybe the three days means three years?  We’re not sure yet, but if this is indeed what JC’s planning to do, we’ve decided to have a little talk with him.  I mean the whole sold-into-slavery thing in order to advance in government is so played out.  Joseph did that like a million years ago.

We all wanted Peter to be the one to speak up the next time Jesus starts talking crazy like this — but he’s pretty apprehensive after that one time Jesus called him Satan (that was funny).  Still, Peter can be dared into almost anything.  And Judas was the only guy to offer, but he wanted cash for it; dude’s always trying to make some easy coin (with his wee beady eyes).

Okay, I’ve got to go get some breakfast before the other guys eat it all.  Plus, they always leave the milk out, and I can’t stand tent temperature milk in my Grape-Nuts.  They’re already not good; they taste just like gravel.  When’s someone going to invent a crispy, sugar cereal with chocolate in it…?  I heard the Flintstone family was already working on it.  If anybody can do it, it’s them.  Have you seen that car they drive?!  And they have a dinosaur dishwasher, too.

I’m Audi 5, yo.

* This post is the third in a “dear diary” series from Matthew 20.  The first two: dear diary — 7th day of nisan and dear diary — 9th day of nisan.

dear diary — 9th day of nisan

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9th day of Nisan, 8:30 pm

Dear Diary,

Mom embarrassed John and I today.  Got us in trouble with the other 10 as well. Last week at dinner we mentioned our hopes that Jesus would give us important places in his new government.  She said she wanted to help.  We thought she was going to launch a little publicity campaign among our neighbors, you know, telling them how great we were and how hard we were working for this new up-and-coming ruler.  We figured by the time the insurgence was successful, we’d be sure bets to be voted into Jesus’ cabinet — a brain trust of sorts.  I’ve already written our campaign slogan:  ”The Sons of Thunder — Consultants for a New Kingdom, Advisers of a New Empire.”  [Either that or "Yes We Can."]

But Salome wasn’t thinking about a publicity campaign.  Nope, she grabbed our hands today and took us straight to the Son of Man.  Then she asked him point blank if we could sit to the left and right of his throne.  She could have at least written a note, flirted a little, or hinted around.  But no, our mom just came right out and asked — didn’t even introduce herself.  Jesus looked at us a long time and asked if we could drink what he was going to drink.  Now… it’s true that John can’t hold his wine quite like I can, but either of us can drink Jesus under the table.  I thought we’d proved that a long time ago at the wedding in Cana.  Seriously, the guy miraculously turned over 150 gallons of water to wine, and only drank a single glass himself.  And he nursed that one glass all night long, trying to make it look like he could drink more than he could.  He’s a pretty little guy.  I still don’t get why people are calling him a glutton and a drunk, though; I mean the guy eats and drinks — he’s no John the Baptist — but a glass of wine at a wedding party?  **sideways smirk**

Anyway, John and I tried to answer (in short and without snickering) that we could indeed drink anything he could.  We really didn’t want to go into details about our drinking habits, what with our mom standing there with us.  I personally think I’m too old to be dragged by the ear to dad for a spanking.  [But I thought I was too old that day in synagogue, too, when mom caught me passing notes up front with the youth group.  I'll never forget how scared I was when I saw her standing up from her pew in the middle of the sermon and motioning for me to come.  And I was right to be afraid -- Zebedee wore my hind side out that day in the room that's supposed to be for deaf people and mothers with crying babies.]  So neither me nor John were excited about having to explain our drinking to father, especially after a bad day of fishing.  He’s been just a little grumpy ever since we left the family business anyway.  And he doesn’t like drinking at all.  He actually tried to convince me the other day that the Greek word for wine really just means fruit juice.  I mean I know I mostly speak Aramaic, but I’m no dummy.  Why would people put fruit juice in wineskins?  **rolling eyes**

So… when Jesus asked John and I if we could drink anything he drank, we just kind of shrugged our shoulders, held in our laughter, and mumbled, “we can.”

His answer: “You’ll have to share a cup with me.”  [What?  I guess he thinks we drink too much and wants to keep us under tabs?  That or he's cheap -- no, can't be that, he'd just make more from water...]

In answer to mom’s question, he said he wasn’t allowed to give away the seats next to his throne.  That was up to his father (the power behind the throne, if you will — a puppet master of sorts).  Disappointing.  **a single tear**

But what made it worse was that somehow all the other guys heard about what mom had asked for and got really mad at us.  Jesus broke it up (just as they were about to give John a swirly) and talked about how the Gentiles abuse their authority and we shouldn’t do that.  He said whichever one of us wanted to be great had to first be a servant.  And as if he wasn’t making little enough sense already, he said we’d have to become slaves if we wanted to be first.  He’s always talking in riddles like that.  He said something about how he came to serve people, and that he’d later be kidnapped and held for ransom.  The twelve of us talked about it just a little while the guys untied mine and John’s hands, but we decided to get together and talk more later — out of Jesus’ earshot.  I’m on my way to that meeting now.  Running late — write more later…

* This post is the second in a “dear diary” series from Matthew 20.  The first post is here.

dear diary — 7th day of nisan

image courtesy of photobucket.com

7th day of Nisan, 9:45 pm

Dear Diary,

Jesus told us another story today.  [I've got to write all these down, because Matthew says he might make a whole book later of all these stories.  Why he can't do all the writing himself, I don't know.  He never had a hard time writing down all the money we owed him when he was working for the government...]  Anyway, this story was about all these men working on a farm. The guys hired earliest in the morning got a contract for one denarius (John and I thought that was pretty fair for manual labor).  I guess the farmer had more work than he realized, though, because he kept hiring more workers throughout the day.  But these new guys weren’t offered contracts; they were just told they’d be paid whatever was right.  [Maybe because they were unskilled -- after all, the farmer did just hire a bunch of guys who were standing around in the market.]  Still, they came to work, just trusting the farmer would pay them a fair wage.  Or I guess they didn’t necessarily trust him — maybe they just figured any money is better than none.  After all it was getting late in the day and they were still sitting around waiting for work.

In the end, though, all the workers got the same pay, even the ones who had only worked an hour or two.  At least that’s how the story went.  But it’d never happen that way in real life; it’s too unfair.  Jesus is always telling stories like that, things that would never really happen.  He ended this story by saying something like, “the last will be first, and the first will be last.”  It was really similar to what he told Peter earlier in the day.  Peter was reminding Jesus of all we’d left to come and follow him; and he wanted to know what we’d get for it in return.  JC’s answer was that we’d get 100 times what we’d left behind, plus eternal life.

John and I were trying to figure 100 times what we would have made fishing for the past three years with dad.  It’s hard to say, but it’d be a whole whole lot of denarii… or fish — depending on how you look at it.  I’m wondering how Jesus is gonna’ come through on these promises he’s making.  As for the eternal life thing, we’re all guessing it’s just another analogy of some sort… **sigh**

Anyway, after JC answered Peter about our future payment, he said something about the first being last and all that stuff.  I think that’s why he started telling the story of the unfair farmer in the first place.  But none of us really understands this last being first stuff.  We all are excited Jesus is starting to make statements, though — in the past he’s just asked questions (even when one of us asked a question first).  Really, who answers a question with a question?  I guess the guy who’s going to rule his own kingdom can do whatever he wants.  We’re still placing bets on when he’ll give us permission to start the revolt.  Me and John each put money on a different date, but agreed to share the winnings if one of us comes out on top.  I’m starting to wonder, though, if it was wise for us to let Iscariot hold all the money; dude’s got some wee beady little eyes.

I hear we’re going to Jerusalem soon.  I wonder when I’ll see Lazarus’ sister, Martha, again? Wow, did she know how to clean a house!  And she’s not bad looking either.  **dreaming**

Well, I’m tired and need to get some sleep.  John’s finally out of the bathroom, so I can use it now.  He sure does spend a lot of time on his beard and hair for a guy who basically grew up on a fishing boat.  Good night, diary.

* This post is the first in a “dear diary” series from Matthew 20.  The next post is here.