Looking for hope in a dying world.

With the stronger trend towards secularism and moral decrepitude in the United States, as well as a weakened church, I find it easier to understand just why so many people think that Jesus Christ will return in their lifetime. Namely, that this conclusion can be attributed to wishful thinking. I attribute my own recent feelings of anxiety both to this decline and the fact that my own personal moral weaknesses act not only as a reflection of America's moral decline, but also a possible indication that even Christianity might not be capable of saving it.

The modern church is shallow and the modern Christian is uneducated at best. We can already see the tole that this is taking on the American people. Recent surveys (http://www.barna.org/barna-update/article/12-faithspirituality/260-most-american-christians-do-not-believe-that-satan-or-the-holy-spirit-exis) have shown that most Christians do not understand what Christianity actually is. Many critics of Christianity have little understanding of what they criticize, but how is this to be of any surprise when its proponents don't have an understanding of it either?

Our modern society relies too much on pleasure and not enough on thought. When someone with as much of a poor understanding of logic as Richard Dawkins is being lauded as great intellectual giant, it is safe to say that we are in serious trouble. Having read much of the God Delusion, I can say that if that man ever had a meaningful thought regarding religion/philosophy, it died of loneliness.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to get at in this message, because I see no solution to our problems. I've tried to make an effort towards the cause of Christ through online debate, but I'm coming more and more to the realization that arguing with idiots over the internet doesn't seem to be getting anywhere. Over the past month I've drifted between anxiety, shame, and nihilism. I'm feeling somewhat better after this diatribe, but have little comfort as I know I'll likely feel just as bad in due time.

Disneyland Photoblog - Featuring the Submarine Voyage

Hi all! Over break I made a day trip to Disneyland and spent part of my afternoon photographing the submarine lagoon in Tomorrowland. Those pics as well as a few others are included below.







That's all for now. Hope you enjoyed them!
T.H. Excellence

Immediate reflections on the debate.

Ummm.....what the hell was wrong with Christopher Hitchens? Was he hung over? This was not the debater who flipped off the audience on the Bill Maher Show. This was not the debater who said of of the late Jerry Falwell, "Give the man an enema and you could bury him in a matchbox." The man who debated William Lane Craig tonight was a slow, stupid, timid blob with the presence of Richard Nixon during the Nixon/Kennedy debates.

Of the five arguments that Craig put forward, Hitchens only addressed three. Sort of. He responded to the cosmological argument by saying that scientists were unsure of something that Craig demonstrated they clearly were. Of the fine-tuning argument, Hitchens only made non-sequiters about things that he perceived to be examples of bad design in the universe, ignoring the scientifically supported examples that Craig put forward. Finally, Hitchens was incapable of even understanding the moral argument that Craig put forward. Hitchens seemed to be under the impression that Craig was arguing that Christianity automatically makes a person behave more morally, when Craig was really arguing that objective morality can only come from a God. Despite the many times that Craig explained this, Hitchens never really understood. This was all rounded out when Hitchens decided to waive his final rebuttal time, deliberatly leaving Craig with the last word.

I don't see how anyone, athiest or otherwise, could possibly think that Hitchens did not lose. As much as I hate to say it, I really don't think that is a good thing. An athiest watching will likely only get the impression from this debate that Hitchens is wrong, not necessarily that Craig is right. The desired victory here was one of the defeat of a powerful oppenent. This would truly show the strength of Christian Apologetics. As it turned out, however, the battle just seen was an incredibly unremarkable one. Hitchens was obviously not on his game, and the atheist can easily see that. This was not a challenge for William Lane Craig, and christian apologetics looks all the weaker for it. I dunno, maybe I'm just being pessimistic.

Gods Among Us?

Just after submitting my last post here, a friend forwarded this video to me. The technology is very remarkable, and what is shown here is quite amazing! However, it also scares me a little bit. I'll explain why after the video.



So what do you think? Very cool? Very strange? Are you a little scared like me? I don't know what your thoughts are, but I think this could be too much power for mankind. Though the limits of the device aren't specified, it clearly has the potential to bring a seemingly unlimited amount of knowledge to the individual. Could we become gods of information? And amidst all this knowledge, is there any wisdom?

Tim Higley

The Future Has Arrived

"There's a great big beautiful tomorrow
Shining at the end of every day
There's a great big beautiful tomorrow
And tomorrow is just a dream away!"

Such are the words sung throughout Walt Disney's Carousel of Progress, a lasting tribute to the technologies borne out of man's efforts throughout the 20th century. Rotating around the unique theater, the audience follows an American family as they progress through the years and highlight the brand new inventions of each era. Each slow rotation brought the audience to a younger era in which life was a little simpler and easier thanks to the latest technology.

The show captured Walt's enthusiasm for tomorrow perfectly. He was a firm believer in progress, that is, the development of new technologies and ideas. He also recognized the sorry state of our world and believed that progress was the key to making the world a better place to live. With this dream in mind, Walt foresaw an advanced world, unified in peace. Had he lived a bit longer, he would have been able to complete his Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, or Epcot for short, an experimental city that would have served as the testing ground of new ideas for better societies.

So what exactly was Walt's vision for tomorrow? Better, easier lifestyles so mankind can slow down and enjoy himself more as well as the company of others. In the Carousel of Progress, the Mother of the family makes this evident throughout the different periods. When we first see her at the turn of the century, she is doing the laundry, a task that used to take two days but is now reduced to but five hours thanks to her new "wash day marvel". As progress moves on, however, exhausting chores such as this are reduced greatly by the new technologies being created every day. By the time we reached the 1940's, Mother has much more time free from chores and is able to perform extracurricular tasks around the house, such as creating a "rumpus room" for Father. Finally in the present day she is free from all work and joins Father at last to showcase progress in the modern age. Technology has made her life much easier and much more relaxed so now she has time for the things she enjoys doing.


Progress has moved on since Walt's day, and there is no doubt that mankind has an even easier, more relaxed lifestyle today. Digital technology has done for us what electricity did for the inhabitants of the early 20th century, and thanks to computers and the Internet we now have easy access to unlimited resources. We can quickly look up a piece of information thanks to Google, chat with friends whenever and wherever via Facebook, and order almost anything we need or want through Amazon.com. These tasks have never been easier than they are today. An easier lifestyle? Certainly. A better world? I'm not so sure.

Part of Walt's vision for tomorrow was world peace and unity. Not only did he hope man would have more time to enjoy himself but also to enjoy others. Where was Mother when she was finally free of all work? Right next to Father. Yet more and more progress seems to be encouraging us to do the opposite. Digital technology helped things move a lot more quickly partly by removing the middle man. You don't need to go to a library and deal with a librarian any more. You just need access to Google. The technology that has made our lives easier so we have more time with others has merely made us more alone, though we are all somehow more unified through the world wide web.

Is this a problem? You betcha! Humans aren't made to function alone. We all need the companionship of others in order to survive emotionally. Yet this companionship is becoming less and less practical every day, and in a world that's moving more and more quickly, anything that's not as practical as the next thing is quickly cut. Rest assured the human race will survive for a long time in the midst of digital technology, but it may not continue as we once knew it. In the absence of companionship, the human heart grows colder and colder. Slowly we will turn into nothing more than robots of flesh and blood, living lives of utter practicality with little emotion and little sensation. And thus will begin the end of the world.

"It's better for you
and it's better for me
It's better than everyone thought it would be
The future has arrived."

Tim Higley

Ever Wanted to be a Disneyland Cast Member?

Hey kids! Have you ever wanted to be a Disneyland cast member so you could help operate some of the most popular Disney attractions of all time? Well now you can! Themagical.nl hosts a variety of Internet-based simulations that allow you to take complete control of top rides such as Big Thunder Mountain and Tower of Terror! Just follow this link to Themagical.nl and you're on your way to making magic happen for guests from around the world!

Enjoy!
T.H. Excellence

Do we get charged less now that we live in a triple?

Problemo Numero Uno: We named him.
Issue The Second: He insists on free passage between our room and the outside.
Thirdly: We are allergic to him.
The Fourth (aha!): He sleeps in a basket that once held our crocheting, therefore displacing a heap of yarny goods.
The Fifth Element: His right hind leg is curled protectively against his belly at all times, resulting in a pathetic hobble and an inability to jump.
Six: He needs a bath.
Seventh Dilemma: He probably has fleas.
Number Eight: He sounds like he has a respiratory issue-- at the very least, he has a very silly purr.
Problem Nine: He is not litter-box trained.
Ten: We are going to keep him.

Fred Baby is curled up in a basket behind me as I write this, snoring away between a blanket and a pair of sweatpants. He is the poorest old slob with a name that I ever did see-- and he decided last night that he wanted to live with Sharon and me. And since he literally hasn't left my sight in ten hours, I think the ten reasons can be overlooked for now.

An interesting thought experiment.

It's basically an online test to see whether or not your conception of God logically consistent. It's just an online game, so take it with a grain of salt, but it makes some interesting philosophical points:

http://www.philosophersnet.com/games/god.htm

Innocence Lost

Slowly...slowly...back...forth...breeze in wisps from the North. Whispers, lies, if only, if only, lullabies cry as she rocks slowly.

In an heirloom southern rocker she pushes off of creaking, splintered wood panels. A splinter grovels its way through her soft, fleshy small toe, but she pushes through. Gritting her teeth, salt springs ooze salt tears over salty cheeks. How can I remove the splinter in my toe when thousands puncture my soul. That's what it feels like, ya know. Suddenly I can't breath, I panic, how did she go?

The breeze becomes a torrent tossing her thin, matted hair around her face. It frames a portrait of weeping shame. Thoughts of "if only" are tossed in her ear. Her mind drinks in and becomes intoxicated with the condemnation. If only I had spent more time. If only I had slowed down. If only I hadn't worried. If only I had said no to things that didn't matter. If only I had lived what I knew was best, not what other people told me. If only, if only.

The hurricane of emotion slowly whisks away. The corn fields rising over hills in the distance show promising heads ripe and full. I want to destroy them. I want others to know the pain of losing the fruit of their labor. Who knows what I feel if not when they experience it themselves? No one can tell me move on, no one can tell me let go until they know.

She pushes back slowly and stares through a hole in the roof. It was going to be fixed before...But now it will stay broken. For some reason it was right, though. She could see clouds pass quietly. It was her own small world to enjoy. Everything else overwhelmed. But not that small piece of heaven. Staring up she felt her world slowly re-arrange. She even sighed in wonder and prayed.

God, Father, I did what You wanted, I did what You said. I wanted to do it right, so I asked others and followed examples. I wanted everything perfect so I worked and fought laziness. I tried everything, but in doing so I stopped hearing Your voice. I tried to listen, but I was so busy with trying to follow You I did not allow time for hearing. I did a lot, I tried to follow, but in the end it really was for naught. You've taken something from me that I thought was mine to hold, to cherish, to love like You loved me. For some reason You did not think that was good and right. In the beginning, I thought you were wrong. I wept and yelled. I thought, because I had not heard Your voice, that You wanted to punish me. You scared me. Your punishment scared me. I am still silently fearful, but I know and read that You bless those who wrestle with You. Right now, I don't fell like a winning Jacob, I feel more like an exiled Esau. Bring me back and help me be content with what you have for me. Prepare me to walk in joy again. I let your peace rule in my heart this moment, continue plying me in the furnace of hardship. And when my faith fails catch me up before I burn.

She had to start small. That piece of sky made all the difference. She could handle small pieces of sky. She could stare at her feet, then her hands, then the steps, the walk, the fence. But she could not see them all at once, that was too much. She lifted herself off of the rocker. Shuffled in to the kitchen, past the greasy pans, the uneaten spaghetti. She looked at the laminate, square upon square, looked at the corner of the wall, okay, good, just make it to the bedroom and try to make the bed. In looking at small things, her eyes lit upon the one thing she had tried to avoid. The small, wooden, high chair sat empty. She cried out slowly, moaning, bending to push away the throbbing stomach.

God, this hurts too much. Memory is pain. What do I do, take it out and forget? Or keep it and torture myself every time I want a glass of water. "There is a time for everything"

I heard, I heard!

Slowly, she set the high chair outside on the step, closed the door and made again the trek. She still weeps for baby Innocence once in a while, but she listens to her Father and follows through the fire.

As times of suffering come and go in your life may you ever cling to God, even when He doesn't make sense, when He puts you through test upon test. He loves you. He wants you to have the victory. Remember that he put Jacob's hip out of joint to remind Him that the battle truly is the LORD's. He causes the waves to rise and fall. May You allow Him to mold You this semester.

A Perspective On What May Come

As you of the world know, today has brought us our forty-fourth President. He has offered hope to millions of Americans, has appeared willing to work across party lines, and possibly has one of the most difficult challenges in history facing him.

He follows a man who, though successful in many areas, let America down in many ways. Former President Bush has guided us through the wars in Iraq and Afganistan in a capable manner, but has dissapointed the people in his approach to other issues like immigration and the economy. Much of what he had promised to do he never did, or simply did poorly. This is not to say that I'm surprised! As I have heard said, "Politicians rarely believe what they say, and are surprised when anyone else does." I think Bush has actually been one of our more honorable leaders, and do not believe that we made a mistake by electing him; however, what he promised and what he delivered left too much of a gap.

Enter Mr. Obama, the man of change. To be honest, he frightened me more than Senator Clinton during the election process. I have no doubt that much of what he said during his campaign was carefully worded to soften his agenda. He is not a moderate, and the fact that he presents himself as one does not encourage me. But as I watched his inauguration this morning, I found myself hoping that I will be proved wrong about him.

He addressed the threat of terrorism, telling our nation's enemies that he knows they're out there, and will not be cowed by them. [Me: huzzah!] He called upon God for his administration, both by choosing Warren and Lowery for the invocation and benediction, and by crediting Him as the source of our life and rights in his speech. He commented on our economic problems, our educational problems, and our environmental problems - his solutions may not be exactly what we of the conservative side want, but he has promised to do something about it.

He made a lot of promises. That really gets down to my main point: will he keep his promises? As a politician, he likely said some of those words simply to get votes. But another part of me thinks that he may actually keep his word. That, in itself, creates two reactions in me.

First, I am concerned that he will do all he has promised. Those changes will make the government larger and more powerful in many ways, limit freeom in the economy, and increase our tax bills. He will nationalize things that are privatized, such as health care. The environment will likely get more attention than the plight of unborn children. In short, America could be well on its way to becoming an actual socialist state.

My second reaction is this: I hope he will do all he has promised. America is in desperate need of a leader of integrity - a man who, to quote a great poet, "meant what he said, and said what he meant, [a man who is] faithful one hundred percent." We the people are sick and tired of men and women who tell us what we want to hear and have no intention of following through. If he keeps his word to the public, and proves himself just and honorable, then God will have a clearer way to work His will through our President.

Now, that's not to say that I do not hope for a shift in his ideals while he is in office... He is the man of change, isn't he?

Poll Results!!

The results are in and 11 out of 16 of us have responded [which is pretty good, actually!!]

So it's official, Faerie Queen is the most anticipated book of the semester with 4 votes, followed closely by Shakespeare with 3, the Bible takes third spot with 2 votes, and Hobbes and "other" tie with one vote each. Sadly, nobody was excited to read Locke. Poor guy. Better luck with next years sophomores.

So a new poll will be up shortly, so be looking for it!!!

Swimming with Sea Turtles

Sunrise, Monday morning. I've just flown into Kauai the night before and am sprawled out in bed, trying to adjust my internal clock to a new time zone. I'm not a morning person as it is without having to deal with the hours of my day shifting back. Suddenly my mom rushes into my room. "Tim! Quick! There are sea turtles in the water outside our condo!" Intrigued by the thrill of seeing wild turtles, but still half-asleep, I shuffle out of my room and onto our deck overlooking the ocean. Sure enough, thick shells and scaly heads are poking in and out of the waves crashing on the rocks outside our accommodations. My sleepiness overcome, I remain on the deck for quite a while, newly fascinated by these majesties of the sea.

This early-morning experience created a newfound fascination for sea turtles within me, and I fell in love with the grace and beauty of these gentle green giants. I instantly eyed any marine book in every gift shop we visited and quickly flipped through it, searching for colorful sea turtle photographs. And whenever we encountered a piece of art centered on sea turtles, my attention was immediately commandeered.

Finally, on Saturday morning, my fascination reached ultimate fulfillment. Donning a swim mask, I headed out for the cove next to our condo. I caught sight of a few fish here and there, but I had seen those before. I had a different goal in mind for today. I wanted to swim with the sea turtles! Though they they tend to feed some distance from shore, it was not difficult for me to swim out to their feeding grounds. Soon I found myself sharing the waves with some of the most beautiful creatures in the entire ocean. I watched in awe as these turtles drifted back and forth, paddling into crevices for a nibble of seaweed, then darting out again into slightly deeper waters. The turtles weren't intimidated by my presence, either because of their size or perhaps past experience with humans. They took no notice to me, and thought nothing of lazily floating up beside me in search of food. The time I spent under the water with these majestic creatures was truly remarkable, and I will honestly never forget it!

As I returned to our condo, I reflected on my awesome experience and came to lament my lack of an underwater camera. "It's too bad I couldn't get some pictures," I thought. "I bet some of those would have sold nicely online." All during our vacation I've been capturing artistic shots with my camera in hopes that I'll finally be able to break into the micro-stock photography business. Some underwater sea turtle shots may have been just the thing!

At this point, I noticed that there were two things wrong with my thinking. For one, even if my camera were waterproof, I would likely need much more equipment than I own in order to capture any worthwhile shots. But secondly and more important, I realized that I had completely overshadowed the experience I just had. No matter how much a picture of a sea turtle might sell for, it would never ever be more valuable than the actual time I spent in the presence of those underwater beauties. I had just enjoyed a rarest opportunity with God's creation, and was disappointed that I couldn't turn that opportunity into a money-making venture.

The Mastercard ads have gotten it right all these years. There really are some things that money can't buy, such as a swim with the sea turtles of Kauai.

As for your snorkeling equipment, Mastercard will cover that.
T.H. Excellence

Fly Me to Kauai

As many of you know, I'm spending this entire week on the beautiful tropical island of Kauai. This is the first time I've ever visited any place tropical, and my time here has been quite amazing! While my family and I have seen a great variety of wonderful things, the highlight of our trip has easily been a helicopter flight around the entire island! The views were magnificent and breathtaking, and it was wonderful getting such a different perspective of Kauai. Coupled with the sensation of flying, the experience was one of my best ever! Below are several shots taken from the air:

























Now if only I had a bit of pixie dust, I could do this anytime I wanted!
Tim "Peter Pan" Higley

Youth, Age and Beauty

So lately I've been thinking a lot about the fascination that America has with youth and beauty, and how we seem to worship youth as the most beautiful, but lately I have been questioning that. Is youth most beautiful? What is beauty anyways? Is it really only flawless skin and tight abs and a noted lack of wrinkles? It seems like true beauty would be what reflects what is truly good. And each and every wrinkle in an old woman's face represents a year that was given to her [or him, but in the poem i wrote i used an old woman and so i shall here] to either seek after God and sanctify her soul and renew her into the image of God or seek after self. If used in the first, how can an elderly woman not be the most beautiful person of all since she is has had the most time to truly shape herself and be shaped by God further and further into His image. Is that not the most beautiful thing? Have you ever met one of those precious elderly women who so touched your heart with God's love that all you wanted to do was stare for hours into her eyes because you were captivated by her beauty? And what could be more tragic and ill-appearing that the old woman who spent her entire life in pursuit of herself and is now decrepit and unkind? And is there any person who you more want to avoid than the cranky, elderly woman who spends all her time complaining about her life and criticizing everyone around her?

I think that age can only make a person more beautiful or more repulsive, depending on how they use their years...and age, like bark, if stripped away will kill what is beneath. And so I wrote this poem:


The Tree and the Fountain of Youth


She calls him deeper
The boy with the dark black curls
To play in the woods
To be lost in her branches
To see her amongst the host of trunks and leaves.
He hears the call and steps in
Tender feet crunch leaves and twigs
And he touches her bark and peers deeply

The mountain calls him higher
The man with the dark black curls, now masked with grey
His weary eyes peer down at the old parchment
They said he’d never find it
But now he must, else she dies.

The boy reaches his hand out
Peels back the bark from her branch
Reluctantly it lets go and her pure, smooth bark shines
His breath quickens, heart pounds
Twigs crack at slow, retreating footsteps

He cannot read the map for the shaking of his weathered hands
As hers so often do
No longer does she embroider, her hand too unsteady to thread a needle
Her face weathered, her body weary
Yet her face smiles with deep beauty and her clouded eyes blanket her dear ones
But he cannot see it.

Her brilliance pulls the boy back and he is drawn
The bark tears more easily now
Turning it over and over in his hand
Brushing the soft wood with his young fingers.
She pleads with him to stop,
The layers protect what is precious within
But he cannot hear it.

The crest of the mountain disappears behind in the mist
The mist that flows down the crevices and valleys
Down to the lake.
It’s surface smooth, perfectly reflecting the barkless trees that surround
Flawless.

She had asked him to stay…not to go on this journey
But he didn’t hear her.


The man approaches the water,
Dips his hand cautiously and rejoices.

The boy drops the bark and walks towards her
His lust for the smoothness blinds him
He rips the bark away, strips her
Poping and cracking
Insects that took refuge within her flee
New twigs are ripped off, cut short by the violence
He peels her layers away, driven by the trunk beneath.

She pleads with him to stop, but he cannot hear
He is fixed upon her.

The man stumbles through the door and offers her the water
She reaches her hand out to him and accepts it.
Poping and cracking echoes through the house
Wrinkles that took refuge within her flee
Her face pulled taut, the skin flat across her face

The bark is completely stripped away,
He steps back and sees the smooth wood beneath.

He steps back and looks at her face
Weariness has gone and youth has returned
She lowers her eyes, ashamed, exposed
As her wisdom turns brown and falls to the ground
Her eyes harden, the compassion given from years of life has fled.
The gentle touch and knowing caress leave her now supple hands
The gentle tremor in her voice vanishes
And her youth shines forth.

The tree shivers and wind blows against it
The boy is gone and she is
Dead.

The man steps back and walks away
Her husband is gone and she is
Dead.

On Appetites.

My father always spoke to me of appetites. He used short words and earnest eyes and told me that experiments turn into habits. “You are what you eat” was a casual idiom he would usually twist into his grave ultimatum that “You are what you tend to do.” The man was fixiated, and I took it in stride all of my teenage years as a fatherly obsession that didn't demand much thought.

But the image was recently pressed into my heart from an outside source.

This truth, this soapbox belonging to my father, became real.

There is a hose in my backyard which eliminates the need to return to the kitchen for a drink. The water is an uncomfortable temperature, the kind that makes you sleepy and leaves your tongue feeling thick and your teeth sticky. When I dangle the nozzle over my upturned face I sometimes permit the dirt- a memento of the hose's resting place- to fling itself headlong into the stream as it sloshes over my lips and onto my shirt. It is chalky; it probably glows in the dark. But it is available, and it is the way of children. I drink.

There is a brook running from a mysterious cranny high in the mountains which eliminates the need to use a purifier. The water is chilling, the kind that makes your eyelids shake and leaves your chest aching and your fingers jumping. When I submerge my hands and draw from the fount I sometimes permit the banks- rocky and dark - to draw my toes to the water as the draught travels to my mouth. It is wild; it probably houses 50 species of strange weeds and fish. But it is deep, and it is the way of ancient wanderers. I drink.

If the sustenance of the hose had been bad before-- oh, how the problem has been compounded. Out of a good experience, a standard is born. That which I have always known has been surpassed by that which I now know. And how do I react? How do I alter my previous patterns?

After drinking from the lofty shores of a mountain spring, I take a swig from the coiled hose. Where I should have cultivated a newfound appetite I instead quelled it to maintain a poor habit, a ritual not worth preserving. I trade the purity of a wellspring for the mud-caked pipe growing behind the home of my parents- trying to forget I have known better.

Interterm is sprawled out before us- a vast expanse of blank canvas, with little scheduling compared to the rigors of the semester. Do not, do not, settle. O Christian, remember the times of fruitfulness and joy in the Spirit! Cultivate an appetite so strong for Christ-centered living that there is no other choice but for it to become an unbreakable habit, a dependency. Let us ignore the wrong habits of stasis and appetites for stagnancy, and instead use our past experiences in God's presence as incentive to spur us toward virtue.

These are the habits that form us- and what a blesssing it would be, to habitually become more and more like Christ! How much more fruitful our sessions will be if the following weeks shaped us more and more into the people God has always wanted us to be! How well we will be able to pray for each other!

This is my encouragement. And like my father, I find myself thrilled to the core by this possibility, this opportunity to become what I tend to do. May we each chase righteous habits this interterm- may we all return next semester with a shared appetite for godliness.

My Chinese Mother and Her Pantry

My mom and I have very little in common besides our mutual love for cooking and food—and even there we find our disagreements.

Though she’s lived in the U.S. for more than 30 years, she has never been able to let go of her Chinese tastes. For example, whenever we visit a new place, we have to find the nearest Chinese restaurant just to see if the Chinese food is good there. And if that one restaurant isn’t up to her standard, we’ll try another, just to see if it’ll be any better. Whenever we go out to eat, even in our hometown, it’s almost a given that we’ll be going out to a Chinese restaurant—or else we’ll step a tad bit out of our comfort zone to eat Japanese or Korean cuisine. And if you come over to my house to watch television, you’ll most likely be watching the Chinese channel. It’s not that my mom has never eaten out at any other restaurants or has never made dishes other than Chinese, but her preference always sides with her roots—those dishes that remind her of home.

But I, though having grown up on her cooking, have always been a sucker for cooking shows (English ones, mind you…though I’ve watched the Chinese ones as well). Food Network is pretty much the only television I watch, that is, when I’m not watching Chinese soap operas. And I love searching out any kind of recipe other than Chinese. My actual ability to cook well, however, is a completely different story.

So going back to where my mom and I find a crossroad of interests: the kitchen. The kitchen, in my house, is the place for mother-daughter bonding. Holiday parties always get me so excited because my mom and I will actually sit down together to figure out a menu and go out to different grocery stores to find whatever rarities we’ll need. We’ll stop by the nearest grocery store for small ingredients, drive over to Costco for the big ingredients, and then drive at least a half-hour away just to stop by the closest Chinese market. The Chinese market is an adventure all on its own, which I’ll leave for another entry for another day. I love the time we get to spend together and the way we balance each other out to make a fusion feast.

For example, every Thanksgiving, instead of using bread stuffing, we stuff our turkey with sticky rice mixed with black mushrooms, dried shrimp, pork, and scallions. We use the leftover turkey for porridge the next day, adding in dried scallops and thousand-year-old egg (a dark-colored preserved egg, not really for a thousand years old). For Christmas, my mom and I made this thick beef stew which we poured over rice. And on New Year’s, I insisted on making candied yams amidst a table full of Chinese dishes.

But these days, I’ve started to become fascinated by Chinese cuisine. I’ve been actually searching out Chinese recipes and attempting them on my own. Some of the recipes called for ingredients I had never heard of before—Job’s tears, wolfberries, burdock root. I thought to myself, “Shoot, I have to drive all the way to the Chinese market to buy these ingredients.” But yesterday morning, I began exploring my kitchen and I actually found some of these things! I also found a lot of other weird things in my pantry:

Dried Lily Flowers. My mom actually used this in a chicken dish the other night with black mushrooms and jujubes.

Dried Tangerine Skins. These are actually eaten as candy by many Chinese folks.

Dried Bamboo Leaves. We wrap sticky rice in these, the kind you eat at dim sum.

Sophora Japonica. Some type of herbal tea.

Black Dates. And last but not least…

Dried Black Moss. I’ve actually seen this used in many Chinese dishes, but never realized I was eating black moss…to be honest, it doesn’t really taste like anything. Growing up, I actually thought it was pasta.

Anyway, I’m learning that most Chinese ingredients aren’t used for the taste but rather their medicinal value, which I’m just now starting to appreciate. Authentic Chinese cooking is much more concerned with whether a dish is good for you rather than whether it tastes good. Meditating on this, I think I’ve come to understand my mom better and even the way she has raised me. She understands that we often have to eat what's bitter in order to live better. It's a good lesson that I'm still in the process of learning.

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A long and quite possibly incomprehensible rant on the "Atheist Nativity Sign" incident.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the story, a sign promoting atheism was placed by the Freedom From Religion Foundation alongside a Nativity scene at the Legislative Building in Olympia, Washington this last Christmas. The sign says, among other things, "Religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds."

It received heavy detractions from various conservatives, such as Gretchen Carlson of Fox News, who especially balked at the notion of having her children see the sign and then having to explain what atheism was. The sign was later stolen. In response, another was put up with the added inscription, “Thou shalt not steal.”

I expected but was still disappointed by the knee-jerk reaction from the Christian community, as it seemed to be the knee-jerk reaction that the Freedom from Religion foundation was looking for.

This antitheist group has chosen to take a display of positive celebration and disrespectfully juxtapose it with a denial of the majority of the population’s most cherished beliefs. This sign is not a celebration of anything, as the vacuous nature of atheism offers nothing that can be celebrated. Every trait, practice, or significant deed that atheists can perform can (and has) also been performed by theists. The sign itself only has significance in the context of what it chooses to baselessly deny. The sign could have no possible goal besides the irritation of believers.

In expressing such outrage towards the sign, we are only giving them the attention that they desired in the first place. I imagine plenty of atheists were pleased to hear Mrs. Carlson acting as though having to explain an opposing worldview to her children was a horrible thing. I also imagine that they were especially happy when the sign was stolen, as it only gave them ammunition to demonstrate our hypocrisy and insecurity. As the old Internet saying goes: “Don’t feed the trolls.”

This doesn’t mean that we should completely ignore it. We should, instead, react to the existence of this sign the same way that we should react to the presence of antitheism in general.

It seems strange to me that Christians tend to distress more at the expressions of antitheism than the existence of antitheism. The aforementioned Mrs. Carlson especially took offence at the statement that religion hardened hearts and enslaved minds. Fair enough, but the offense taken from this should not be that it was spoken, but that it was believed enough to be spoken. If Christians act as though an expression of an evil belief system is somehow worse than the belief system itself, it can only, at best, create an environment in which those who hold that belief system remain hidden. And how would that benefit the cause of Christ?

When we hear an offensive comment, our response should not be an attempt to silence it, or an expression of outrage that it was spoken. Our intent should be, instead, to correct it. We do not win by silencing our opponent’s opinions. We win by changing our opponent’s opinions.

Posting Schedule

So here is the posting schedule for the blog up till the beginning of the semester. Many thanks to Katelynn for creating it!!!

1/4-1/10: Elizabeth, David, Megan
1/11 - 1/17: Tim, Sharon, Karyn
1/18 - 1/24: Katelynn, Chelsea

And as Katelynn said in our folder...please try not to wait till Saturday to post ;)

Also, anyone is more than welcome to post at any given time, but these are the people whose responsibility it is to post that week :)

Love you all!!

It's 2009!!

Welcome to our Chrysostom Blog!!! It's a new year now [except for those of you living in Hawaii and Alaska...but since none of you do...i think it's safe to say Happy New Year across the board!].

So my hope is that this can be a great place for our group to stay caught up on each others lives, discuss stuff we're thinking about from the books we read...or just whatever we're thinking about, post urgent prayer requests, show off the results of a super-spectacular photoshoot, really whatever, just so long as it has to do with Chrysostom or a member thereof :)

Right now I have the blog open for anyone to read...if anyone has a problem with that, please leave a comment and let me know and I can change that.

Also, the layout is just a template that I picked at 12 am. So we can tweak it, change it, do anything to it...i just need someone to suggest something, or a person with mad programming skills to customize it [brian????].

Otherwise, let the posting and commenting begin :) I'm really looking forward to seeing what we all have to say!!!

~Karyn